


Ends of the Earth

by somethingofatrainwreck



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M, Ficlet Collection, One Shot Collection, Sexual Content, Wedding Date AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:28:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingofatrainwreck/pseuds/somethingofatrainwreck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If two people are meant to be together, there’ s probably an infinite amount of ways for them to fall in love…even in another place or some other time. </p><p>A collection of AU stories that reads like an infinite playlist of Bellarke “what if’s”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. She lit a Fire: Neighbors AU Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Basically I am purging my computer of all the Bellarke AU's I've been working on- and there are a lot. This is just a collection of "what ifs." Some will be modern, some are sort of canon-divergent, some are angsty, some are fun, etc, etc. 
> 
>  
> 
> This first one is more fluff than plot, but in this fandom fluff is usually appreciated. 
> 
> I haven't given up on any of my unfinished stuff- inspiration is just slow coming. In the meantime- enjoy!

**1\. She Lit A Fire.**

_What if Bellamy and Clarke lived next door to each other and got to be actual, normal teenagers....._

 

**#iflifehadamutebutton**

First there’s an inhuman screeching noise…something that sounds so horrible that it must be causing the deaths of hundreds of people.

Then there’s an even louder screeching noise, this one is definitely human and although Clarke Griffin is still too tired to really understand what is being said, she’s pretty sure this one is only going to cause the death of one human being, and if he’s responsible for whatever the fuck is happening outside of her bedroom window - good riddance.

“BELLAMY! WHAT THE EVER LOVING FUCK IS THAT?! TURN IT OFF! I DON’T CARE, TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF NOW BEFORE I TEAR IT APART WITH MY BARE HANDS!”

Clarke buries her head in her pillow when the noise finally stops. It was definitely Octavia who had screamed. She could hear the faint murmur of her brother Bellamy arguing with her.

“When the hell else do I have time to work on it O?”

“I COULD GIVE A FUCK! IT’S SEVEN AM ARE YOU FUCKING HIGH?!”

“Grow up, you shouldn’t be sleeping in until 2 in the afternoon anyway.”

“UGHHH SHUT UP!”

“Hey! Just what the hell is going on out here?”

Clarke groans . The Blake’s foster father- the awkward and abrasive Marcus Kane- must be yelling out their kitchen door. It’s not that yelling from the Blake house was all that unusual. It took Bellamy and Octavia a while to settle in with their new parental figure when their mom passed away. They had been in middle school then. Four years later and things were still loud.

“Do you have any idea how foul that language is? There are children in this neighborhood Octavia! And _you_ what did I say about this?”

“You said…”

“I said you could work on it here as long as it didn’t get in the way.”

“It’s not in the way!”

“Right, which is why your sister is leaning out of her bedroom window and screaming at the top of her lungs….”

“Is everything alright Marcus?”

Clarke makes a disgusted noise when she hears the sound of her mother’s voice and their backdoor closing.

Abby and Kane were very close. It was repulsive.

With another dramatic groan Clarke stumbles from her bed to the window where she squints through the sunlight down to the driveway below. She can see Bellamy standing with his hands on his hips, wearing one of those stupid t-shirts with the cut off sleeves. Kane and Abby are having their own little conversation, both dressed in expensive “work out” clothes that were almost color- coordinated. In between them was an absolute catastrophe that may have once been some kind of motor vehicle. 

“Look, Bellamy you just can’t do this this early in the morning if it’s going to make that much noise.” Kane explains as Abby nods at his side. 

“Well what am I supposed to- between school and work I can’t…”

“You’ll figure something out.”

Clarke Griffin is not a big fan of Bellamy Blake, especially when it’s pretty clear that he’s responsible for the fact that she’s awake at 7 am on a Sunday, but the way her mother and Kane are lecturing him like some kind of…power couple. Seriously, seriously repulsive. So fuck it…

“Mom!” she yells out her window. “Can you come here please?” They all look up at her. “I….uh can’t find the allergy medication.”

Abby sighs and heads back into the house, which will inevitably lead to a lecture about how unorganized Clarke’s medicine cabinet is. Before she can slam her window shut and deal with the oncoming annoying she catches Bellamy’s eye. He’s looking up at her with a grateful smile. She glares back. He winks.

“Clarke, I’ve told you to clean your medicine cabinet out. It’s a wonder you can find anything….”

Fucking Bellamy Blake. 

**#shutup &drive**

As it turns out the almost indistinguishable pile of rust in Kane’s driveway is actually a Jeep that Bellamy is working on himself. 

It takes weeks but eventually it stops looking so terrible. There are a few more mornings when Octavia screams at him for being so loud on a weekend, and a few more times when Clarke overhears Kane hounding Bellamy about stray tools and oil stains on the driveway. The worst part is when he actually gets it to start running (of course she hears from Octavia that it took 3 tries to get it to pass state inspection) and Clarke has to walk by him every morning on her way to the car her mom only lets her use sometimes.

“Need a ride Princess?”

“Not in that death trap.”

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you.”

“Neither is rust and duct tape.”

**#babyyoureafirework**

Her Mom travels a lot. There’s usually a constant stream of rich men having heart attacks and demanding the best cardiovascular surgeon in the country- as long as the men aren’t sexist assholes and their wives aren’t maniacal gold diggers – Abby usually gets the call. 

Somewhere in Kentucky the big time CEO of a Bourbon company shot-gunned a few too many hotdogs and is spending his fourth of July in the ICU. Her mother is spending it on a private jet. Clarke is spending it alone.

It’s not a big deal. She’s beyond used to it. The Griffins haven’t had a real Fourth of July since her father passed. Clarke celebrated with the Jahas for a while, but after the accident ….she doubts they’re sticking to tradition this year.

By the time the sun has set, Clarke has eaten a family sized box of macaroni and cheese, watched Jaws 2.5 times, bought three new books on her kindle, and painted her toenails red, white, and blue. She’s content- and then someone opens her front door.

“Griffin?!”

Clarke nearly falls off of her couch when the voice echoes through the living room.

“Princess, where….oh there you are, do you have aluminum foil?”

She stares at a smiling Bellamy Blake, all tanned and patriotic looking with his blue shorts and his stupid red button down that was ridiculously unbuttoned and just….putting it all out there. She doesn’t count his abs or anything but he definitely catches her looking him over because his smile turns into one of those infuriating smirks.

“Did you seriously just walk into my house without even knocking?” she asks once she’s gotten her bearings and stands up to face him. “Are you even a human being? Do you understand how life works?”

He rolls his eyes, “I need aluminum foil. It’s an emergency- like chicken is probably burning as we speak.”

“I couldn’t care less about your chicken Blake. You can’t just walk into my house.”

“Kane sent me over here.” he says “Apparently your mom told him to keep an eye on you.”

Clarke scoffs.

“I can see why…you’ve obviously been having one crazy night.”

“Shut up.” She storms past him and into the kitchen where she grabs the box of aluminum foil. “Here, have a nice night.”

He catches it when she throws it to him, but instead of turning around and rushing out the door to save his burning chicken he stares at her.

“Why are you sitting here alone? Just come over to our…”

“No,” she says “I’m fine here.”

“Octavia’s home, she and her friend…”

“Bellamy, I don’t want to be around people right now okay? If I wanted to come to your party I would have asked. Obviously I’m perfectly satisfied with my night.”

He raises his eyebrows. “What about the fireworks?”

It’s such a childish response that she almost smiles at him. “What about them?”

"They're in,” he pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time “twenty minutes. The most exciting thing that happens in this neighborhood all year and you're just _not_ going to watch them?”

She shrugs “I guess I’m not.”

He shakes his head “You know what...suit yourself.”

He leaves the house without another word.

Fireworks? Seriously. They were the same every year. It wasn’t worth it, it honestly wasn’t even worth it- and yet for the next 20 minutes Clarke can’t help but think about watching her father stare up at the sky in wonder and lying next to Wells as they tried to guess what colors they’d see next.

When she hears the first boom, she can’t resist. 

She walks out onto her front porch. The town’s big firework show is just visible over the houses across the street. 

“ _What about them?_ She said.” 

For the second time that night Bellamy Blake has caught her off guard. He’s half-concealed by the shadows in the drive way, lying across the hood of his jeep with his arms behind his head. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”

She tries to glare, but she’s distracted by a red and gold repeater. 

“You can see better down here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Wipe the outrage from your face Griffin, I’m just being a good neighbor.”

“I can see fine from right here.”

“My God there is a stick so far up your ass….”

“Why because I don’t want to be around you?”

He grins and sits up a little. “It's not a marriage proposal Princess. We don’t even have to speak. I'd prefer silence actually.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“And I have to climb up on ....”

"Sit, don't, I really don't care. I'm not missing this to argue with you." 

She wanders awkwardly over to his jeep and pulls herself up. The metal is cold on her back- but he’s right, there is a great view. 

“This is weird.” She mumbles mostly to herself.

“Only if you make it weird.

“We’re not friends.”

She doesn’t look up but she can feel him shaking his head. “So?”

“I mean we sort of are- on Facebook at least.”

“Are we?”

“We're alliies if anything”

He laughs "Against what? Kabby?”

She looks over at him, “Tell me you didn’t give them a couple’s name.”

“I didn’t. Octavia did.”

“That is just….so unbelievably gross.”

“I agree.”

“So fine, we’re not exactly friends….”

“Probably never will be.”

"That works for me." 

And that’s how it starts.

**#ontothenextone**

She doesn’t actually get a glimpse of him as she pulls into the driveway, but she does see the bright green garden hose stretched across the lawn.

Rage-washing the jeep was a classic Bellamy Blake coping mechanism. He’s a pretty predictable guy when you observe him long enough, of course there are always subtle differences that can be used to gauge the seriousness of the situation. For instance, Clarke knows that the break up must have gone a little bit less than amicably the second she steps out of her car and her ears aren’t assaulted by his passive-aggressive pseudo folk rock _“let me enjoy my jeep in peace”_ playlist. 

With a groan of defeat she slams her car door shut and arranges the bags on her arms so nothing tips over and her forearms don’t get steam burnt. She can admit-openly and willingly- that what is going on isn’t exactly an in-character reaction for her, at least not towards Bellamy Blake. Clarke has always tried to use her excellent observation skills and nurturing instincts to be a good friend and considerate person, but as she walks across their lawns she knows that this marks a pretty significant paradigm shift in their ….fragile state of comradery. 

“This was a bad idea,” she mumbles to herself once her feet hit the wet concrete of his driveway. He is aggressively scrubbing the hood with a sponge that probably needed to be replaced. His shirt is soaked through, his shorts hanging almost obscenely low on his hips, and his hair pointing in just about every direction- like he couldn’t make it more obvious that he was a frustrated mess.

He barely acknowledges her when she clears her throat, his fingers digging harder into the sponge as he grunts out an unnecessarily hostile “What?” 

“I heard about the break up,” she says, “or read rather….it was on Facebook.”

He pauses for a moment, just to close his eyes and take a deep breath, before returning to his frantic scrubbing. “That’s great. I’m so glad my personal business is out for the world to comment on.”

“Well, its’ kind of a risk you take when you…”

“You know Griffin, I’m really not in the mood to be lectured right now.”

He turns his back to pick up the hose and she makes another throat clearing noise. “Yeah, I figured as much…which is why I brought this.”

She half expects him to turn her down, to give her one those _future agent of the C.I.A_ looks of suspicion and knock the bags right out of her hand. Instead, his head tilts slightly as he reads the script on the bag and he lunges forward so quickly her flight or fight reflex nearly kicks in.

“I swear to God I’m done with girls in this town," he mumbles as he leans against the soaking wet, soapy hood of his jeep and starts unloading the Styrofoam containers from the bag. “and I realize that I keep saying that, but this time I’m fucking serious.”

She watches with mild interest as his hands work like an assembly line. The containers opened and steaming, the massive burrito unwrapped, systematically covered in all seven of his usual additional toppings, and rewrapped like a pro. The truth is she has seen this song and dance a few times before, she only really remembers all of the toppings because the process is so asininely precise.

“I should have listened to Octavia.” He takes a giant bite and Clarke winces. His jaw may have actually unhinged. “She said right from the beginning that…” he pauses to swallow and makes a strange face- looking at the burrito like it’s a distorted corner piece of an old jigsaw puzzle. Once again Clarke feels an unfamiliar stab of sympathy when she looks at him. Without even considering what soap could do to the silk shirt she’s worn to her internship that day, she steps over and leans across the hood to pull out the tiny container he had somehow managed to miss.

“Pico de gao” she says with a wave.

He sighs dramatically and starts his whole re-wrap process all over. She really feels for him now. Whatever had happened with Roma has him so irritated that he actually fucked up his own burrito. She tries not to watch him as he fixes his mistake, instead she leans even more into the suds to reach the open container of corn chips that had come as a side. To her surprise he pushes it towards her before taking another ridiculous bite.

"I'm not even pisssed that we broke up," he clambers on through bits of meat and cheese and pepper. “I’ve been looking for a way out of this for weeks, but she actually sat there for almost an hour explaining to me why it was my fault.”

Other than the crunch of another corn chip, Clarke doesn’t really have a response. 

“So not only are you not even acknowledging that I’ll be upset because we’re breaking up, but you’re so confident that I’m fucking heartless that you have to literally list everything I’ve ever done wrong. It’s not like she said ‘this relationship isn’t making me happy’ no, no the problem was that I was making her unhappy. Like I was actively trying to hurt her feelings by not calling every night and using insincere emojis.”

“What?” Clarke asks with half a grin.

He takes two bites and opens the bottle of water that had rolled out of the bag before answering her. “Apparently, I would always text the exact same emojis. She said it was a cop-out and it made her feel like I wasn’t even trying. That’s not even the worst of it,” as he yells some sauce dribbles down his chin. Clarke tries to pass him a napkin without too much judgement. 

“She told me I was too controlling, that I never compromised and did what she wanted to do. Just because I didn’t want to hang out with her fucking stoner friends and huff glue behind the dollar store, I’m a control freak? She could have went without me, but oh no….no we had to be together all the time. It’s like I had to meet a fucking quota. Do you know how annoying that is? When you can’t just be with someone? It has to have stipulations and meet certain standards and I’m fucking sorry that our relationship wasn’t straight out of a Taylor Swift song but this is fucking reality.”

“Why don’t you just stop talking for a minute and eat your burrito. Your loosing half of it every time you make a vowel sound and at this rate,” she glances down at the jeep “she’s gonna need another wash.”

He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t argue. 

They eat in silence until Bellamy belches, balls up the empty aluminum foil wrapper, and tosses it into the bag. “I just need to get out of here.” he says as he leans his head against his forearms and stares down at the ground. “I need to get as far away from this town as possible.”

“Well,” Clarke says, wiping the excess salt from her hands on her pants “at least without a girlfriend you’ll save some money.”

He looks up at her with narrowed eyes, and for a moment she’s worried that she has actually offended him- at least until his brain seems to rationalize her statement and his glare turns into a thoughtful expression. “There’s my silver lining.” He stands up straight and starts collecting all the empty containers.

She’s gotten so used to seeing his cocky smirk over the years that it’s really unsettling to see him this way: all dejected and hurt. It’s sort of like seeing a boss in casual clothes or a teacher outside of school. “Hey,” she says, “I’m sorry. I know you liked her.”

“I did but that’s not -I don’t like feeling guilty. I know I was an asshole in the past, but thus time I wasn’t trying to be an asshole and for her to act like I was? Now I’m sitting here over thinking everything I’ve done the last three months and that’s bullshit.”

“She’s insecure Bellamy.” Clarke says confidently “that’s what Octavia picked up on the first time she met her, that’s why she tried to tell you not to get serious with her. When girls aren’t satisfied with themselves it’s impossible for them to be satisfied with a relationship. Don’t worry about it, soon she’ll look back and realize that it was all her.” She crunches on one of the last chips and looks up at him. His eyebrows are knitted together as he stares at her, his hand frozen halfway to the bag he was reaching for. 

“What the hell just happened here?” he asks.

“What are you talking about?”

“Did you…” he readjusts himself so that he’s facing her, “did you drive all the way to El Canelos when you saw that thing on Facebook?”

Clarke tries not to look embarrassed, “First of all, it’s like three blocks from work so I didn’t drive “all the way” to anywhere and second don’t assume that it was for…”

“You don’t like Mexican food.”

“I…of course I….don't start with me Bellamy, wipe the smirk from your face alright?”

She’s babbling and he’s grinning at her.

“I’m not going to stand here and watch you look at me like I’ve just asked you for your autograph okay? So you can just…”

He grabs her arm before she can walk away, “Can you just wait until I thank you?”

She pulls her arm away from him and nods “Go on.”

“Thanks Griffin.”

She nods again and tries to fight a smile. 

“I’ll pay you back.”

“Oh no, no you’re not neutralizing my good deed.”

“Neutralizing…”

“I want you to remember this the next time you get the urge to work on this piece of crap at 7 am on a Sunday.”

He laughs, “It’s all about scores with you isn’t it?”

“Yes actually so,” she grabs one more chip and takes a step back “your move.”

**#anythingyoucando**

They start a war.

Their whole dynamic stops being about tolerating each other and becomes this spiteful battle that ironically propels them towards being actual friends.

It starts with stupid little stuff- like the fireworks and the burrito- Clarke’s car gets a flat and Bellamy sees her bitching about it on Twitter, so he shows up at her work and changes it for her.

Kane’s Satellite dish is destroyed in a wind storm the night before The NCAA March Madness tournament starts. Clarke lets Bellamy spend the next two nights camped out in her basement, screaming at the TV because apparently he had enough money riding on his bracket to buy matching doors for the jeep. 

Clarke needs to cook something for a pot-luck lunch celebrating a Doctors retirement at the hospital she’s interning at so Bellamy gives her his Mom’s lasagna recipe…and then pretty much cooks it for her. 

Bellamy volunteers to cat-sit for the old people across the street for a little extra money. Clarke goes over after work on Friday and ends up hanging out with him almost the whole night- at least until Octavia shows up with some left over Pizza, sees them sitting together on the Mulberry’s pink plaid couch, and raises her eyebrows so far into her hairline Clarke is surprised they didn’t disappear there forever. 

And when Clarke turns 18 Bellamy and Octavia cover her car in balloons and streamers and a peanut butter cupcake from Gloria’s Bakery in a cute little box with a bow (she knows that part was Bellamy because they’d just had an argument about the best baked goods in the world when he tried to make her eat carrot cake). 

It’s a very casual sort of development. One day they’re walking by each other and rolling their eyes and the next they’re leaning against his jeep and talking until one of their phones vibrate and interrupt. 

Sometimes she tells him things without even thinking about it- like important things- things like the time she spent by her father’s bedside before he passed away, and the voicemail Wells left on her phone a few minutes before that car hit him, and her mother – everything she can’t stand about the woman her mother has become and the one that she expects Clarke to be. He’s actually a good listener and she only regrets it for a few seconds after she opens up to him. 

Eventually he tells her a little bit about his mom, although he masks it with complaints about Kane. She gets to know him well enough to know when he’s upset and over time she learns just how much weight he has on his shoulders.

Most of the time, when he feels like he needs to be alone, he goes and sits in the jeep. She’s gotten in the habit of joining him. The reality of it is that they’re both stuck in a place they’d love to escape. Bellamy feels like he can’t leave for college until Octavia graduates next year (and he doesn’t want to take a dime from Kane to pay for it) and Clarke is counting down the days until her own graduation- just a few months feels like a lifetime. 

So they bond without really realizing it and pretty soon he feels like one of the most important people in Clarke’s life.

 

**#arrivealive**

She hadn’t spoken to him in almost two days when it happens.

There’s muffled music from the driveway- and the sounds of garbage cans being knocked over like bowling pins. She knows it’s Bellamy, and she knows something must be wrong, so she puts down her book and creeps out of her room, past her mother’s door, down the stairs, and out through the patio doors where she has a prime view of Bellamy sitting in his dark jeep.

She steps over the trashcans and squints through the darkness to see if there was any damage to the jeep. Bellamy doesn’t even notice her until she pulls the driver’s side door open- and then she smells it….

“Are you drunk?” 

He lays his head against the wheel and sighs.

“Oh my god, you are. You’re fucking drunk- you were…you drove here?!” She starts to hit him, really hit him…..we’re not talking WWE – _let’s make this one look good_ openhanded bitch slaps . These were some serious UFC-style knuckle tape and Vaseline blows . Her fists are clenched so hard her arms are shaking but she pounds his shoulder with every furious word “You. fucking. Idiot. Get. Out. Of . the. Car!” He tries to shake her off so she throws the door open and grabs him by the collar of his shirt. “Get the fuck out of the car.”

She must look ridiculous- with her hair piled on top of her head like a nuclear explosion and her Dad’s old Darth Vader T-shirt hanging down over her shorts (it was fitting though….the force was strong with this one), screaming obscenities and dragging a six foot , deadweight slab of idiot from a jeep with mismatched doors while the radio station he’d been listening to decides to play that Gary Glitter song…you know the one from every football game that’s ever been played….. _dun nah nah HEY dun nah nah nah nah._

“Are you fucking stupid?!” she demands once she’s finally forced him to the ground.

He stares up at her, shielding his eyes from the streetlight on the corner. “Stop yelling…and turn that….God please turn that fucking song off.”

_Dun nah nah HEY dun nah nah nah nah._

She reaches into the jeep, rips the keys from the ignition, and throws them in his face. The radio cuts off once she’s slammed the door shut, and for a moment the night is quiet again.

Until she starts aiming kicks at his ribs and he twists around to avoid her. “Do you have any idea what could have happened tonight?” He tries to grab her foot and pull her down to the ground with him, “Get off of me- Goddamn it Bellamy, how could you do something so stupid?!”

“Clarke, stop hitting me.” He sits up and glares at her.

“I can’t believe you….you…fucking idiot. You call someone! You walk home! Pay for a fucking cab! Sleep on a couch! You DON”T DRIVE DRUNK!”

“I wanted to come home….Clarke, I’m…”

“I said don’t touch me!” she takes a giant step back and he squints his eyes at her. “You wanting to come home isn’t an excuse. You could have killed yourself, you could have killed someone else!”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Because you got fucking lucky you selfish bastard! _You wanted to come home?_ I can’t believe you. I seriously, seriously can’t even look at you.”

“What is your fucking problem? Nothing happened, it was a one-time thing and….”

“It only takes one time Bellamy. One drink too many, one second with your eyes closed….one red light … and then that’s it. You can kill someone in under three seconds do you fucking understand that?!”

He covers his face with his hands while she rants at him, bowing his head in shame because something had finally triggered in his memory. “Fuck,” he says “Clarke …..I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” she points at him and takes another step back, “if you’re gonna say you’re sorry, say it because you mean it- not because I have a dead best friend.”

“I wasn’t thinking. I’m……fuck I just…..didn’t want to be there anymore.”

She shakes her head and turns her back on him, climbing up onto the jeep’s hood and facing the dark street. “I can’t believe you.” she mumbles.

A few minutes go by in complete silence. Bellamy has flopped back onto the grass. Clarke stares up into the night hoping to see a star. “It’s cloudy tonight.” She says quietly. When he doesn’t respond she looks over her shoulder. “Get off the ground idiot, you look pathetic.” 

He stands up slowly, stumbling and shaking his head. “Clarke,” he says as he approaches where she lays back on the hood, “Clarke, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?”

“What?”

She sits up on her elbows and raises her eyebrows, “You said you couldn’t be there anymore, what happened? I thought you loved hanging out with Murphy and his band of perpetual losers.”

“I just…needed to come home.”

“Yeah but why?”

“Because I fucking did.”

It’s the first time he’s snapped at her in a long time, so she tries not to snap back- but it still stings. 

“Fine,” she says “I’ll leave you alone to sober up.” She makes to jump off the hood but he grabs her arm.

“Don’t walk away if you’re mad.”

“Bellamy I think it’s best if I just….”

He steps closer so she can’t jump down, his head is bowed and she’s terrified that he may be crying.

“Clarke,” he says “I’m never going to leave this town.”

“What are you…”

“No, don’t.” he holds up a hand. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m going to be here for the rest of my life working a minimum wage job trying to save enough money for an education I’ll never……”

“Bellamy,”

“I’m going to be forty years old, still spending Saturday nights on Murphy’s fucking back porch….”

“Come on,”

“And that’s okay because O’s gonna get out. She’s going to Arizona St or NYU or wherever the fuck she wants to go, and that’s all that matters.”

“I know.” She says sadly as he squeezes his eyes shut. “but, that doesn’t mean….”

“But I just fucking hate it here….I hate living in his house and having nothing of my own and…”

“But you do,” she says “you do have something. You have this.” She enthusiastically pats the hood of the jeep “This is all you Bellamy and one day you’re going to drive it out of this town and never look back. Hey- look at me,” she grabs his shoulders and he looks up, “this isn’t you talking, this is whatever cheap swill Murphy made you chug from a beer-bong.”

“Clarke…”

“You are going to be fine.” She says “because you’re smart and you’re kind and you’re strong. You’re going to make something of yourself Bellamy- as long as you never do anything as stupid as driving drunk again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know you are and I’m still annoyed with you but it’s only because ….you could have died. You could have died and…there are so many people who need you, you’re friends….Octavia….me.”

He looks up at her and she tries to keep eye contact. “I need you around okay?”

His eyes gloss over and he laughs a little, “You know how I know how drunk I am?”

She raises her eyebrows and shakes her head.

“Because I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now.”

Suddenly her face is on fire and she stares at a spot over his shoulder as she pushes him away, “You’re drunk.”

“I know.”

“So you should sleep it off.” She pushes him back a little further and jumps off of the hood.

“Clarke,” he grabs her and pulls her into a hug “Thank you.”

“For what?” she says into his shoulder, “yelling at you and hitting you and…”

“You know for what.”

She pulls away from the hug and hopes to God he forgets most of this conversation. “Go to bed.” She says.

He nods and she watches him stumble into the house. 

She’s pretty sure the days of them being just casual neighborly comrades/ pseudo-friends are over. 

**#rideordie**

The first time Bellamy has sober thoughts about how much he actually cares about Clarke it’s during some kind of Griffin family meltdown. He’s doing the dishes when he hears the screaming. Kane mutes the TV and starts to head towards the kitchen window to stick his nose where it doesn’t belong…as per usual. Bellamy beats him to it.

When he looks across the driveway he sees Abby on their front porch, cupping her hands around her mouth and yelling down the dark street. Clarke is nowhere to be seen.  
“What’s going on over there?” He’s sure Kane’s next move will be to console his new best friend, so before he gets dragged into another awkward conversation he grabs his keys from the table and runs out the back door. The jeep stalls a few times- because he still doesn’t have the money for Wick to do anything other than look at it – but when it finally roars to life he shoots out of his driveway so fast he’s pretty sure he left tire marks. 

She’s only made it a few blocks by the time he catches up with her. He slows down and beeps once to get her attention. She stops and looks at him, shakes her head and mumbles something like “not now” but all he can focus on is the pain in her face. Her eyes are red and watery and she looks so devastated that he feels like something is physically squeezing his heart. 

He slows down even more, “Get in Clarke.”

“I said not now.”

“Get in the jeep.”

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“Clarke,”

“Leave me alone!”

“No. I’m not doing that. Absolutely fucking not.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh and turns to face him, “I don’t want to argue with you. I just want to be alone. Can you please…just let me be alone. You don’t need to…be involved…to see me like this. You don’t understand and I just….I need some time. I need to breathe…I need…”

By the time the first tear has escaped the corner of her eye, he’s put the jeep in park and jogged over to her. He reaches a hand out, “Come with me.”

“Bellamy…”

“You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t even have to look at me, but I can make this…..just come with me.”

“I…..”

“Don’t ask me to leave you here like this, that’s not happening….get in the jeep.”

“You can’t make this better Bellamy. You don’t need to waste your time…”

“What are you- It’s not a waste of anything! It’s …..” he takes a deep breath. Yelling at her won’t help. “Please just get in..” 

She stops trying to pull away from him and bows her head, “I know you have that …thing that you do. The big brother, _I can protect you from the world_ thing but I don’t need a big brother. Right now all I need is space and…”

“Fine,” he says “I’m not going to try to be your big brother but if you continue to walk alone and upset down a dark street I’m going to be your asshole neighbor who will pick you up and throw you into his jeep without even blinking because he can bench-press over 200 lbs.”

She stares at him in shock, “You are the fucking worst do you know that.”

“Get in the jeep.”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere you want.”

She takes a deep breath and wipes her eyes, “Fine,” she says “fine there’s a….there’s a mural on the south side of the hospital, you can see it from the visitor’s parking lot.”

“Okay.”

He gently pulls on her elbow until she’s close enough to jeep for him to open the door for her.

“And then I want to go to the hotel across the highway.”

“Clarke…”

“Fine, I’ll take a cab.”

She tries to climb out and he blocks her path, “Okay, Goddamn just stay in the jeep.”

The drive to the hospital is silent. She points the mural out to him and he finds a spot in the visitors lot where they can just make out its shapes and colors by the light of streetlamps. He doesn’t really get it- it’s a nice mural and all but it looks nonsensical to him. Clarke brings her knees to her chest and stares at it- she may be crying but Bellamy doesn’t look over to check.

When she whispers that she’s ready to go he starts the jeep up and slowly backs out of the parking space. “Clarke,” he says “isn’t there anywhere else you could go? That hotel is…."

“No there’s not actually.” She says “my best friend is dead and I don’t….trust anyone else enough.”

“You can sleep in the jeep," he says. 

“It’s like fifty degrees out. The hotel is fine.”

He makes an agravated noise and flips on his blinker, "Just let me take you home.”

“ I can’t deal with her.”

“Yes you can. You can be the bigger person like you always are.”

“Bellamy…”

“Clarke I know you two have issues but she’s your mom. It doesn’t matter what she does she will always be your mom and coming from someone who lost theirs- you need to make it right, and I think you know that.”

“So the whole point of this was to drag me back to my mother…”

“The point of this was to make sure that you’re okay, because believe it or not I actually do give a shit about your happiness.”

“Why?”

“Beats the fuck out of me.”

**#mybadcomeback**

The whole having a crush on a girl that’s three years younger than him- and still in high school- makes him feel like a total fucking creep. Yeah Clarke is 18 and she acts like she’s thirty and it’s not like he was ever actually going to act on it but it gets to the point that he can’t even really look at her without hating himself.

So he pulls away. He tells her he’s working on nights when she wants to hang out. He parks his jeep on the street instead of the drive way so she can’t leave a note on the windshield asking where the hell he’s been. He basically ignores her , so he’s probably somewhat responsible for her relationship with Finn Collins. 

Octavia is the one who tells him about it, coming into the kitchen while he’s eating left overs and slamming her hands on the table.

“Clarke is dating the new kid," she says.

He chokes a little, but masks it by taking a drink of water. “Good for her," he says.

“Oh good for her?” Octavia pulls a kitchen chair out and throws herself into it, “so it doesn’t bother you?”

He barks out a laugh, “Why would it bother me?”

She raises her eyebrows, “Probably because she’s gorgeous and smart and you’re _stupid_ into her.”

“Actually I’m not," he says with as much confidence as he can muster through a mouthful of macaroni and cheese.

“You are so full of shit.”

He drops his fork and shakes his head, “She‘s in high school O. I can’t be into a girl that’s still in high school.”

“She’s in high school for another four weeks- and then what?”

“Doesn’t matter, the point still stands.”

“You know what,” Octavia says as she stands up “you’re right. It doesn’t matter because Clarke is dating Finn Collins now. He drives an eco-friendly car and brings her coffees to school every morning. He’s prince Fucking Charming Bellamy.”

“How romantic," he snaps.

“You blew this," she says as she leaves the room. 

He doesn’t even have the strength to argue with her because deep down he knows she’s right.

He decides that it’s time to stop ignoring Clarke when he sees her struggling to carry a bunch of grocery bags up the drive way.

“Need some help?” he says as he walks down the porch steps.

She whips her head around so fast she nearly drops everything she’s carrying. “Look at that,” she says “you are alive.”

“Yeah,” he jogs over and grabs a couple of the bags, “I’m uh- I’m sorry about not being around much. I’ve just been busy…”

“Look you don’t have to make up excuses Bellamy, if you want to avoid me for whatever reason…”

“I don’t want to avoid you. I just had other shit going on. It's not about you.”

She looks at him for a second, anger and understanding flashing back and forth in her eyes like some kind of ping pong match. 

“I thought we were,” she stops and readjusts the bags in her hands, “We’re friends right?”

“Yes," he says as genuinely as he can, “but this is just who I am.

“You know what? Let’s just pretend it never happened. We’re friends and that’s….that’s what matters.”

He raises his eyebrows,“you sure?”

“Definitely, plus my arms are breaking and I really need your help getting all of this into the kitchen.”

He laughs and takes a couple more bags before following her through her patio doors. They spend most of the morning together. She tells him she decided to do pre-med at North Western and her Mom was pretty happy with that decision. He tells her the story of his trip to the mountain last weekend when the jeep broke down and Wick had to come tow it back to his shop. They laugh like they hadn’t gone almost three weeks without having a conversation and he feels pretty okay about the whole thing- and then she pulls out her phone and starts showing him pictures from her trip to the aquarium. When she gets to the selfie where she’s kissing the Collins kid’s cheek she tries to quickly thumb past it- but the can of worms has already been opened and Bellamy knows that if he really wants to be friends with Clarke this is something they’re going to have to deal with.

“So,” he says with a forced smirk, “new boyfriend?”

She avoids his eyes “Yeah, his name is Finn. He’s in my AP Bio class.”

“O said he was new.”

“Yeah, he’s from Oregon. He just moved here last month.”

“Nice guy?” he raises his eyebrows at her and she smiles a bit.

“Of course.”

“Well good,” he says “because traditionally, the Blakes have an incredibly low tolerance for assholes and if new boyfriend decided to be an asshole well- I’m just not sure what Octavia would do.”

Clarke laughs. 

“I mean it Clarke, she's terrifying.” He bites into an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter and grins. 

Her laughter sort of stops and her face starts to look serious, “Thank you Bellamy," she says. 

And when she smiles at him, he’s pretty sure his little crush isn’t going anywhere. 

 

**Part 2 is 80% finished, I hope to have it up by Sunday. Thanks for reading!**


	2. She Lit a Fire: Neighbors AU Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What if Bellamy and Clarke lived next door to each other and got to be actual, normal teenagers....._

**#nighttoremeber**

He’s not sure what exactly he’s waiting for as he sits on the jeep and stares off into the street. Octavia had disappeared over to Clarke’s house nearly four hours ago. It was Senior Prom night and although his sister hadn’t managed an invitation- she was just as excited to dress Clarke up and cover her in sparkles and make-up and whatever the hell else she had in the two giant bag she’d drug along with her.

The boyfriend was supposed to be meeting her here for pictures, he was already 45 minutes late. Bellamy is just about to text Octavia to nonchalantly ask what the hell is taking her so long when he hears the Griffin’s patio doors open- and then there’s Clarke. She’s wearing a dark blue gown and her hair is intricately pilled on her head with curls and braids and she looks exactly like the girl Bellamy always pictured in his head every time he read Cinderella to Octavia when they were kids. 

While he’s gaping at her like an idiot, she sees him, waves, and starts to walk down the path, stumbling a bit on the cobbled stones her mother had laid down. He grins at her. Of course Clarke Griffin wouldn’t need grace to be breathtakingly fucking beautiful.

“Need a ride Princess?” he finally says.

He pats the space next to him and she smirks. “This is your sister’s fault.” She points to her dress and back up to her face. “She spent hours on my hair- seriously hours.”

“She’s a Blake. Blakes never do anything half-ass.”

Clarke rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone.

“You look nice though,” he says once she’d looks down.

She lets out a laugh “Well I should hope so, she must have used 100 lbs of make-up…”

“Clarke,” he sighs, “seriously. You look happy.”

She smiles down at the phone, “Yeah, you know….I guess I am.”

He wants to tell her more. He wants to tell her all kind of crazy shit, shit that he shouldn’t say because she’s in high school and she has a boyfriend and if he were her boyfriend- well he certainly wouldn’t appreciate her creepy neighbor telling her that she’s actually the most incredible fucking thing he’s ever seen.

While he stares off into space Clarke approaches the jeep. She’s just about to plant her arms behind her and hoist herself up when he pushes her away. “Don’t,” he says “you’ll mess up the dress.”

She stares at him, “Are you serious? The last time you washed this thing, you told me not to get anywhere near it so my “greasy hands” didn’t fuck everything up.”

He laughs. “Yeah well you’re looking a little too good for this thing.” He pats the jeep fondly.

Its silent for a minute, and then Clarke takes a deep breath. “So hey…um would you maybe want to take a picture?”

“Of you?”

“Wha…..no idiot, of us. You and me…. and the jeep I guess," she laughs awkwardly. 

He nods his head, but he’s pretty sure he must look like an idiot because she rolls her eyes and grabs his arm. “Let me just get O or my mom to take it.” She yells their names up the driveway and a few moments later Octavia comes prancing out of the house with a huge smile on her face.

“Yes your majesty?" she says.

Clarke rolls her eyes again and hands her phone over. “Hurry up and take our picture before my hair gets screwed up.”

Octavia’s eyes shoot between them and then her smile somehow doubles in size, “It would be my pleasure " she says- shooting a not so subtle wink at her brother.

Clarke nods and moves to stand next to him.

“You’re gonna have to get closer,” Octavia says with a challenging glint in her eye.

Bellamy raises his eyebrows and reaches his arm out to Clarke. She looks at him hesitantly for a second and then steps forward into his side so his arm can curl around her shoulders. 

“Perfect,” Octavia says, “except- are you sure you want that rustbucket in the background?”

Clarke starts to laugh and Bellamy looks over to smile at her and that’s when Octavia snaps the picture. Bellamy can tell by the way she stares at it on the screen that he fucked up- it has to be obvious otherwise Octavia wouldn’t look so smug.

“My turn,” she says “but we’re getting a picture in front of the garden- that way we can figure out which angle looks best for when Finn finally shows up.”

It’s another half hour before Finn does show up- with some excuse about trying to find her the perfect corsage. Bellamy has met the kid a few times, they both seem to have a mutual dislike for each other so as soon as his eco-friendly clown car comes driving down the street, Bellamy shoots Clarke a smile and a “have fun” and retreats back into the house.

Octavia sends him the picture later that night- apparently she had instantly texted it to herself after she took it. “No judgement if you make this your lock screen,” she had said in the message, “her pictures with Finn didn’t even look half this cute. Make it happen big brother.”

He deletes the message- but he does save the picture. 

 

**#takeabow**

Clarke had never had a boyfriend before Finn, not like a real one anyway, so she never realized just how much trust was involved. The idea that Finn could be playing her, lying to her, stringing her along, had never occurred to her. There weren’t many people in her life that Clarke just opened up too without a second thought. Finn had seemed…..well he’d seemed like a stroke of good luck, like the universe was paying her back for all the fucking horrible things she’d gone through the last few years. 

As it turns out….Finn was just another fucking horrible thing.

She finds out about Finn’s girlfriend about a month after graduation.

She’d spent weeks worrying about what would happen to them once she left for school in the fall. Finn was staying in town for a while to help out his Aunt who had just lost her husband. They were both trying so hard to make that Summer as fun as it could possibly be.

One Saturday, Clarke plans to take him to the mountain. There’s a swimming hole along the river that very few people know about. You have to walk about a half mile of old railroad tracks to get to it- and then climb down a slope that is pretty close to a perfect 90 degree angle. She had never really had an interest in going there before, but Finn had brought out a different side to her. She wanted to go on adventures with him.

So she puts on a bathing suit and packs a lunch and heads over to his house for a surprise spontaneous adventure. When she arrives there’s a girl walking up the driveway. Clarke almost recognizes her- Finn had some old pictures from his hometown in an album in his room- but she can’t put a name to the face. Something in her gut tells her to park on the other side of the street, something insecure and paranoid and in the end- completely right.

The moment Finn opens the front door the girl throws her arms around him. He looks totally shocked but then he smiles and spins her around. Clarke starts to open the door because obviously this girl means a lot to Finn, and she’d be happy to meet her and then they start to kiss- like really, really kiss.

She sits there staring for what must be the better part of ten minutes, long enough for them to finish their embrace and find their way into the house. She’s not really sure how to deal with this. On one hand she could storm in there and punch him in the nose, or she could just leave, delete his number, never look at his stupid cheating face again, but she knows herself. She knows that if she doesn’t find out exactly what the hell is going on, she’ll drive herself crazy. So she wipes the angry tears from her eyes, climbs out of her car, and storms across the street. 

Finn opens the door and turns so pale she can almost see through him. He stammers through some excuse about an old friend surprising him and Clarke just stiff arms him out of her way. She finds the girl coming down the stairs from the second floor- clearly having just pulled her shirt on over her head. The second they make eye contact Clarke extends her hand. 

“Hi. I’m Clarke- Finn’s girlfriend.”

The girl’s eyes bug out of her head and she whips around to glare at Finn.

“Yeah,” Clarke says, “that’s what I thought.” She tries to storm back out of the house but Finn grabs her arm. He’s talking so fast she can barely make out what he’s saying- something about old love and new love and confusion and growing up and it’s all such bullshit all she can do is try to pull away from him.

“Finn,” the girl, who she would later learn is named Raven, says “let her go.”

Ironically, Clarke shoots her a thankful look as she takes off towards her car. Her hands are shaking when she puts her keys in the ignition and the road starts to blur as she pulls away from the curb. Her brain is starting to connect the dots- the reason he never wanted any pictures of them put on social networking, the always changing security codes on his phone, the times his phone would ring and he’d leave the room for some long conversation he never wanted her to hear. 

There was another girl. Clarke had started to think she was in love…..but there was another girl.

Thankfully her mother has already left for work when she makes it back to her house. The first thing she does after she climbs from her car and wipes her face is look for the jeep in the Blake’s driveway, her stomach sinks in disappointment when she remembers that Bellamy was at some concert in town for the night. She’s got no idea why she feels like seeing him would make any of this better- but she knows it would. 

“Clarke?”

Just as she’s started to drag her feet across the lawn Octavia comes down the driveway with bags of garbage, she tosses them into the cans and runs over with wide eyes. “What happened?” she demands “Are you okay? Is it your mom?”

“No,” she says “no- I’m fine. I’m just-“ she wipes her eyes again.

“Clarke you can tell me.” Octavia says “it’s pretty obvious that you’re upset.”

Clarke takes a deep breath and nods. Octavia may be the closest thing she has to a girl best friend. Isn’t this what girls do in the movies when they break up with someone? “I went to Finn’s house,” she explains in a surprisingly calm voice, “and there was this girl there and they- they kissed and probably did more because apparently she seemed to think she was his girlfriend.”

Octavia’s eyes are wide “He FUCKING WHAT? Are you joking? Prince Charming was two-timing you?”

“He’s not Prince Charming,” Clarke snaps, “he’s just a boy …..and an idiot.” She wipes frantically at her eyes “I’m an idiot. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Octavia looks a little alarmed when Clarke starts to cry- and Clarke is absolutely mortified but the girls seem to come to an understanding without saying much of anything. 

Octavia grabs Clarke’s hand and they go into her house together. Octavia pours them both giant glasses of Abby’s good wine and they sit on the floor in Clarke’s living room in the half-darkness as the sun sets. Clarke cries a little and Octavia says a lot of mean things about Finn that don’t really make her feel any better.

About an hour later Clarke gets a call from a number she doesn’t know. It’s the girl, Raven. At first she seems angry, but Clarke tells her in the most confident voice that she can manage that she had no idea that Finn was seeing someone else. Raven calms down and they spend another fifteen minutes talking: Raven explains that she and Finn had been dating since they were fourteen and Finn had promised her they’d make it work despite his move. She tells Raven exactly when she and Finn had started dating and they both feel sick when they realize he’d only been in town for 2 weeks when he’d first asked her out. Clarke feels a bit of relief when she finally hangs up with the girl. Octavia tells her the whole thing is “super weird” and that she and Raven should probably hate each other but really- Clarke pretty much just hates herself for not seeing it sooner. 

Both girls have a pretty good buzz by the time Finn shows up. His face is red, hair all over the place. He knocks on her door like he’s about to storm in and rescue her from something. When she sees him, she feels calmer than she expected she would.

She opens the door and closes it behind her before Octavia can storm out and attack him. 

“I don’t want to do this.” She says, “I’m not going to do this- not today, not ever.”

“Please just let me explain.”

“I don’t need you to explain anything.” She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, “I thought this was something I wanted and- it’s not."

“Clarke,”

“Maybe I’m too young, maybe I just –“

“Just listen to what I have to say.”

“I honestly thought I was in love with you, but you know what Finn- today when all this happened the only part of this that really hurt was that I let myself down, that once again I let myself lose someone else. I can’t be in love with you, and yeah I’m pissed at you for lying to me but it’s not even that. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want this.” She points back and forth between them. “So please don’t ask me to be with you like that. Maybe after some time- we can be friends but…I’m done with this.”

“Clarke.”

“I’m done.”

She turns around, shuts the door, and locks it. 

“Was that him?” Octavia rushes towards her, “what happened, did you hit him?”

“No I didn’t hit him.” She walks back into the living room and collapses onto her pile of blankets. “I told him how it was, that I’m not interested.”

Octavia sits down next to her, “I mean – he was only your first boyfriend right? That doesn’t mean that you won’t…”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now,” she says, “the important thing is that he’s gone.”

The problem was that he wasn’t gone. Finn was a good person- Clarke knew that deep down despite his lies he was truly goodhearted- but he was the kind of person that could not stand being denied the opportunity to explain himself. So that night he camped out in their driveway- after leaving several text messages on her phone saying that he would only leave if she came out and spoke to him. 

Octavia offers to call the cops, Clarke just shakes her head and turns her phone off.

She tries not to think about it- as she sits and stares at one of the Fast and Furious movies playing on her TV- but he’s in the back of her mind. She’s annoyed because her resolution to move on from this means shit when he’s just sitting out there. 

“Clarke I can tell that it’s bothering you.” Octavia says, “Just let me call the-“

“No.” Clarke says, “It’s not that. I’m just- I’m going to get a shower. Help yourself to anything just- leave him alone, I don’t want the cops involved.”

“Okay.” 

Clarke doesn’t notice the determined look on Octavia’s face as she storms up the stairs. 

Somewhere on the other side of town Bellamy Blake stands in line for a concert he and Miller have been waiting for for months. 

“They’d better let us in before it starts to rain.” Miller says bitterly.

Bellamy stands up on his toes to look over the line and then his phone rings. He sees its Octavia and presses the answer button so quick he nearly cracks his screen.

“What’s wrong?” he says.

“Nothing,” Octavia says in a quiet voice, “well nothing serious just…”

“O come on, they’re gonna be letting people in soon….”

“Collins and Clarke broke up.”

His eyes must widen more than he realizes because Miller notices and looks at him with concern, “Okay,” he says in a voice the hovers awkwardly in between casual and ecstatic.  
“He had another girlfriend, some army chick from his hometown.”

Bellamy closes his eyes and shakes his head. Part of him had been hoping that Finn Collins wouldn’t turn out to be the Prince Charming everyone thought he was- but not at the expense of Clarke’s trust. She’d lost a lot of people, he saw the hurt in her eyes every time he looked at her. It was getting better- maybe Collins was even making it better- for him to betray her…..well that meant bad news for Finn Collins.

“How is Clarke?”

“Upset. She was crying when I found her this afternoon, but she seems better now.”

“She was crying?”

“Yeah well that happens sometimes when you catch the guy you think you’re in love with making out with another girl.”

Bellamy is quiet for a minute, trying to decide what to say so he doesn’t sound like an immature jack ass, “Where does this kid live?”

“I’m not sure,” Octavia says with a little bit of amusement in her voice, “but he wouldn’t be home anyway seeing as he’s currently camped out in our driveway.”

“He’s fucking what?!”

“He’s sitting out there waiting for Clarke to talk to him. I told her I’d call the cops but-“

“No, don’t.” He looks up at Miller- who is grinning and shaking his head like he knows exactly what’s going on. “I’ll be home in a half hour.”

“Bellamy…”

He hangs up on her before she can try to talk him out of it- she wouldn’t have called him if this wasn’t exactly what she wanted.

“So,” Miller says, “fun put on hold for white knight duty?”

Bellamy wants to be annoyed at him, but he is ditching him so an apology seems more appropriate. 

“Look, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be,” he says, “I get it man. I know you don’t want to talk about it, but I get it. Go be the hero.”

Bellamy hands him his ticket, suggests that he find a pretty girl to sit next to, and takes off into the parking lot.

The drive takes him a little bit longer than he anticipated because it starts to rain and the jeeps brakes are shit. When he rounds the corner and sees the soaking wet Collins kid sitting cross-legged in the driveway between their house and Clarke’s he throws the jeep into park and jumps out.

Collins looks up at him- squinting through the darkness- if he recognizes him, he doesn’t say anything but he doesn’t seem afraid either. He turns around quickly and looks back up at Clarke’s house.

“Need an umbrella?” Bellamy says as he approaches him.

“I’m good.” Collins grunts back.

“You remember me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then you remember that this is my parking spot.”

“I’m not leaving.”

“What do you think you’re accomplishing here Collins?”

“I need to talk to Clarke.”

“I was under the impression that she didn’t want to talk to you.”

“She just needs to hear what I have to say.”

He shakes his head and pulls his hood up, “Look man, I’m trying really hard here.”

“What are you going to do Blake, punch me in the face like one of your goon friends? I could give a shit. I’m not leaving.”

He wants to laugh at him- and punch him in the face a little bit- but he feels bad for him in a way. He may have always been a bit jealous of his relationship with Clarke, but he knew he was a decent guy.

“You cheated on her kid. She doesn’t trust many people but she decided to trust you- and you fucked that up. Sitting in this driveway isn’t going to change anything. Clarke’s not that kind of girl Collins. When she says it’s over , it’s over.”

“How the fuck would you know?”

“Because I know her.”

He turns around and quickly gets to his feet, “You think I don’t?”

“I think you only took the time to learn things about her that you wanted to know. Look, I don’t know what you went through with that last girl, all I know is that Clarke saw something in you and you let her down.”

Finn ran his hands through his hair, “I didn’t- I didn’t mean to alright? I made a mistake I just…”

“If you don’t want her to be completely out of your life forever, you need to leave. She needs time.”

“I just need to talk to her.”

“Write her a letter, send it in a few weeks.”

“She’ll be gone by then.”

The reminder is like a punch to the gut. “This is the last time I ask nicely Collins.”

He looks back at the house one more time, before nodding slowly. “But I’m not leaving because of you.”

“Whatever you say.”

He snatches up a bag he’d had with him on the ground and storms down the driveway. Bellamy watches him stomp through puddles like a pissed off child.

It’s the last time he sees Finn Collins. He hears from Octavia that he and Clarke spoke a few weeks after- and that they’re civil now. Apparently Clarke even struck up an unorthodox friendship with the other girl- Raven.

Bellamy never tells Clarke about that night- as far as she knows he came home early from the concert because he had a migraine. 

He’s fine with that.

**#leavingonajetplane**

She’s ready to leave when the day comes.

After a summer of getting over Finn, passive-aggressively arguing with her mother, and trying (and failing) to learn how to cook for herself, packing up her suitcases and printing out her boarding pass feels cathartic. 

She and her mother part ways amicably. She hugs her and swears that she’s proud of her, slips her a couple of twenties and tells her to grab a decent dinner at the airport.  
Marcus stands awkwardly in the back ground- simply nodding at her when she meets his eyes.

Octavia wraps her in a giant hug and makes her swear on her life to call all the time, and visit every weekend, and Clarke lets out a sad sort of laugh because it’s Octavia’s senior year and knows she’s going to be missing so many great things. 

Bellamy offers to drive her to airport, so his goodbye lasts almost two hours. He insists on walking her all the way to security – not because he thinks she can’t handle her own luggage – but because he says the idea of anyone walking around alone in an airport is depressing.

“You should be happy,” he says through a mouthful of the Cinnabon she paid for with her mom’s guilt money. “Why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

She laughs a little, “Don’t be that guy that tries to act all cool and composed during a goodbye.” She says, “this sucks a little bit.”

“You’re going to your dream school, it doesn’t suck.”

“Yeah but I mean,” she looks at him and smiles, “I’m going to miss the shit out of the jeep…..probably.”

“The jeep?” he raises his eyebrows.

She nods, “The jeep.”

She watches the lopsided grin on his face and stands up- grabbing her carry on. “I uh….I should probably go.”

“Let me walk you to your gate.”

“That’s okay,” she says, “you’ve been here long enough…”

“You know I don’t care….”

“I know, but- I’m ready. I need to do this now before…it gets harder.”

He stares down at his feet for a second, “I’m happy for you Clarke.”

“I know.”

When he looks up at her she’s avoiding his eyes- in that way she does when she’s embarrassed by her own emotions. He doesn’t say anything, but he opens his arms and she walks forward until her forehead rests against his chest. His arms wrap around her.

“I’ll see you soon?” he asks.

She nods and takes a step back, “Definitely soon- and there’s Skype.”

“And you have my number.”

“And you and O are going to come visit me.”

He laughs, “I don’t know if the jeep will make it that far.”

“I don’t know I’m usually pretty surprised by what the jeep is capable of.”

He smiles, “So you’ve uh- you’ve got everything set up for when you land?”

He hugs her one more time, makes her promise to text when she lands, and watches her walk away. 

It’s a pretty sucky ride home. 

**#yousaygoodbye &isayhello**

They spend a year trying to keep in contact.

Clarke only comes home four times- she spends most of the time with Octavia, but she still gets to see Bellamy.

He gives dating a try a couple of times, Clarke meets one of the girls on Christmas. They get along great. It still doesn’t work out.

He finds out in March that he got into ASU and he spends hours on the phone with their financial aid office working out how the hell he’s going to pay for it. Octavia sits next to him the whole time. She was the one that convinced him that he should apply. It took weeks but finally he agreed. She says she’s cool with it as long as he’s not operating under the delusion that they’d be living together when she heads to ASU next year. 

When Clarke gets home she hears that he’s finally getting out of town. 

They split a case of beer to celebrate.

That summer is a whirlwind. Bellamy spends most of it trying to work as many hours as possible. Octavia spends a lot of time training- she’s going to have to work hard to get that volleyball scholarship and she knows it. Clarke spends most of her time at the hospital- working a part time job in their billing department. It’s boring , but it pays well and she hates asking her mother for money. 

They fall a bit out of synch.

Clarke has this weird flirty thing going on with one of the women in the office named Lexa. Bellamy meets her a few times and thinks she’s sort of a sociopath but he doesn’t say anything. 

He does however flip the fuck out when he finds out that Octavia has been seeing a guy from the Mountain- who is like five years older than her. She calls Clarke to calm him down, thankfully Kane is working overnight.

Clarke throws the kitchen door open and catches him in the middle of saying that his life ended the day Octavia was born, which is bullshit and all three of them know it- but it still hurts Octavia who turns away from him and rushes from the room. Clarke grabs him by the shirt sleeve and drags him outside, the second he takes a deep breath of the night air she hauls off and slaps him across the face. 

He doesn’t get mad. He staggers backwards and falls back onto his porch swing, “Shit,” he says as he holds his face.

“What is wrong with you?” she demands.

“Clarke you don’t know-“

“Oh I know. She’s got a boyfriend, so fucking what!”

“He’s five years older than her!”

“Who cares! She’s eighteen! She needs to make her own decisions and she doesn’t need you breathing down her fucking neck!”

He leans forward and cradles his head in his hands, “You have to understand that I just need to….”

“You need to protect her, sure, but goddamn Bellamy she’s grown now. You can’t keep doing this, you aren’t her father.” She sits down next to im.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says, “Octavia….she is my whole life.”

“I know.”

“I’m not ready for this,” he says.

“For what?”

“For everything to change.”

“You’re getting out, this is what you wanted. She’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.”

“It’s normal to be scared I guess- I was.”

He avoids looking at her, stands up and brushes his hands on his pants. “I should uh- I should go apologize to her.”

“Okay.”

“I’m leaving on Sunday.” He says, “when we’re you…”

“Not until I could say goodbye.”

She does wait until she can say goodbye. It’s windy as hell and drizzling and she stands in the Blake’s driveway again watching Bellamy pack the jeep. He apologizes like a million times for not being able to drive her to the airport this year.

She tells him it’s not a big deal, she needs the bonding time with her mom anyway. 

They hug awkwardly- because this time they have eyes on them- and make the same promises they made the year before.

As Bellamy drives away he hopes that they keep them.

That’s the year that- for Clarke- changes everything.

Not only because school gets that much harder, but for some reason- knowing that Bellamy is somewhere other than home makes her miss him more.  
Octavia still texts her almost every day, and Clarke is making plenty of new friends, but facetiming Bellamy every other Wednesday while he waits for his late lecture becomes really important to her.

At first, it’s just a time for him to vent to her, about his roommate, his struggles in his geography class, the latest drama with Octavia and her boyfriend who Bellamy still hates, but she actually starts to really look forward to seeing his face on that tiny screen- they’ve gone months without seeing each other before- but for some reason she just misses him like hell.

It’s worse because other than 2 days at Christmas, they never seem to be able to come home at the same time and after classes change his second semester his Wednesdays are too busy for facetiming. Their friendship survives through tweeting, text messages, and wall posts and Clarke misses him so fucking much.

It’s probably why she nearly sprains her ankle the day he comes home. She’s been back for two days- preparing for another summer working at the hospital and the look on Bellamy’s face when he sees Octavia’s new tattoo. She’s in the kitchen when he pulls into the drive. Her Mother hears the rattling of the jeep and mumbles something like, “I guess Bellamy is home” and before she even looks up Clarke is through the patio doors. She vaults down the steps, nearly trips over the stones up the walk, and as soon as he emerges from the jeep she’s thrown herself against him.

It takes him a minute to realize who she is, but as soon as he does he drops the bag he’s holding and pulls her tighter against his chest- effectively lifting her off her feet.  
“You suck at keeping in touch,” she says when she hears the Blake’s front door open and shut with a bang. She pulls away and smiles at him, he looks something between shell-shocked and relieved.

“You left first.” 

Before she can reply Octavia comes flying in between them and throws herself into her brother’s arms. 

That’s how the best summer of Clarke’s life begins.

**#takemehometonight**

Octavia’s graduation party is more of a camping trip than a party.

Kane isn’t happy about it- but Bellamy agrees to go with Octavia and the boyfriend and all of her friends- so how much trouble can they get into?

Clarke doesn’t think she can go- until one of her co-workers agrees to switch shifts with her at the last minute. She bounds down her driveway just as Bellamy is packing the last few things in the jeep.

“Room for one more?”

“Oh good,” he says with a smile, “a second chaperon for the shit show.”

She’s noticed pretty recently that their time apart this past year has sort of….turned up the sexual tension a bit. It’s understandable, because they’re both good looking and they’re both comfortable with each other, and neither of them have had much of a functional sex life to speak of recently, but Clarke notices his eyes and where they tend to linger- she’d be willing to bet that he’s probably noticed hers too…and sure maybe she’s entertained the idea that it may be something more than simple, black and white _I want to bang you_ emotions, but she’s not ready for anything like that- maybe she never will be.

“So what exactly am I signing myself up for?” she hands him her beach bag.

“We are spending the day at the State Park, Octavia and her friends are already heading up there to set up camp. They took Lincoln’s pick- up.”

She smiles when the way he snarls Lincoln’s name doesn’t sound nearly as furious as it usually does.

“This is really how she wants to celebrate her graduation?” she asks.

Bellamy just shrugs, “Yeah it was all her idea. She visited the lake up there during Spring Break- fell in love with it.”

“Just to be clear, is this an overnight thing?”

“She says it is- but I’m pretty sure after a long day none of them are gonna want to sleep on the ground.”

“Well I only ask because I don’t have a tent or anything.”

“Oh don’t worry,” he says with a smirk, “plenty of room in mine.” He waggles his eyebrows and she bursts into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” she says when he pretends to look offended, “Say it again- I won’t laugh this time I swear.”

“Just get in the Jeep. I’m already late.”

The day goes really well. Lincoln already has a fire built when they get there. A couple of Octavia’s friends are fishing- she and a few girls Clarke doesn’t know all that well are standing at the end of a small boat dock- probably deciding whether the water is warm enough to jump in.

Bellamy laughs when he sees that none of the tents have been set up. He tries to start a wager with Clarke that they’ll be out of there before the sun sets- she doesn’t take it because she’s sort of hoping they won’t spend the night up there, first because there’s no way she’s down to sleep on the ground and second because….well she may have laughed about that whole _there’s plenty of room in my tent_ joke but deep down she knows that’s something that could very well happen and that would be a leap of faith if she’s ever seen one. 

She’s not very good at leaps of faith.

She helps Bellamy cook on the tiny grill- and he shares his beer with her (constantly making jokes about the few months she still has until she’s 21) Clouds start rolling in late in the afternoon. Lincoln says that he thinks it’ll just pass through but then there’s a giant clap of thunder that has Octavia and her friends running from the water. A minute later the calm surface of the lake is covered with what they think are large drops of rain, but as the wind picks up and another bolt of lightning shoots through the sky- they all feel the stinging pelt of tiny hailstones cover their skin.

“It’s hail!” Octavia yells.

Choruses of “ouches” and curse words nearly drown out the sounds of the storm as everyone makes a run for the vehicles- Lincoln’s truck, Octavia’s friend Fox’s tiny pinto, and the Jeep- which Bellamy parked the furthest away to “keep it in the shade.”

By the time Clarke and Bellamy throw the doors of the jeep open- Clarke is laughing so hard she’s not sure if she’s angry or the happiest she’s ever been.

“Didn’t you check the weather before we came out here?!” she says with a fading smile as she shakes her hair out.

Bellamy reaches behind them to pull grab an old blanket they can use to dry off- her beach bag is sitting under the picnic table by the grill so she has no other choice. 

“There was a twenty percent chance of a rain shower. This shit came out of nowhere " he says with a shiver.

“You are a terrible chaperon.” She says, ripping the towel from his hands and wrapping it around herself, “turn the heat on!”

He looks down at his lap in half-shame, “The heat is- it doesn’t exactly work.”

“What!”

“It’s summer! It wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities!”

“I’m freezing.” She says.

“Yeah, why don’t you be a little more dramatic- that might warm you up.”

She rolls her eyes and pulls the blanket tighter around her shoulders. They’re quiet for a minute- catching their breath through the sound of hailstones hitting the jeep. Until Bellamy leans forward and flips on the radio. The reception in the jeep is never great, so the song plays softly through the speakers under a layer of static- usually that would annoy the hell out of her but in that moment- she just feels so calm. 

She closes her eyes and leans her head back against the seat. She can feel his eyes on her- probably that look he gets when he’s trying to decide whether to apologize or change the subject. 

“What?” she says.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah but I can feel you looking at me.”

He snorts, “Just trying to appreciate the scenery.”

“What is it with you lately?” she says with a grin, “all flirty and-“

She listens to him laugh, “Flirty?” he repeats, “Barbie is flirty, Bellamy Blake is not flirty.”

“Oh so you haven’t been hitting on me?”

“If I hit on you, you’ll know.” 

The jeep shifts- she figures he’s adjusting in his seat but she doesn’t want to open her eyes yet. 

“I’m pretty sure O’s friends are leaving," he says.

“Can you see them?”

“Not really.” She cracks and eye open and sees him squinting through the glass- there are car lights glowing further up the lot, but she can’t tell if they’re moving.

“They’d better not leave us to clean all this shit up.” She says- without thinking she sits up and leans across him to look out the window herself. The blanket slips off of her shoulders and her breath fogs up the glass. Goosebumps break out across her shoulders, but she’s not really cold anymore. When she turns her head Bellamy is staring at her again- only this time it’s not in the goofy way he’d been looking at her earlier – this time his pupils are blown wider, they’re locked onto her like she’s a bomb about to ignite- his expression halfway between terrified and curious. 

“Sorry,” she starts to say, but he shakes his head. His arm rests behind her elbow holding her in place. She can feel the blush spreading from her chest to her forehead. He’s definitely moving closer to her- his breath against her ear, her cheek, the side of her mouth.

“Bellamy,” she whispers. She’s pretty sure their lips brush- but he doesn’t flinch, instead he smiles.

“I told you if I hit on you you would know.”

When he starts to laugh she pulls back, fighting her own smile and punching him in the shoulder. “God, you’re a dick.” She says.

“Not gonna argue with that.”

He looks so smug that she feels a freak burst of confidence stemming directly from her stubbornness- and the fact that he’s pretty much become her favorite person on Earth. She surges forward and presses her lips against his. He’s so surprised that he pulls back away from her- hitting his head against the seat. She would have laughed at him- but there was something weird about it, something that felt like relief flowing down her spine into her fingertips. So she stares at him, and watches some kind of struggle in his eyes.

“You okay?” she asks.

His eyes narrow before they drop down to her lips. He nods and then his hand slides up from her elbow to the back of her neck. 

“You?” he asks. She gets halfway through a nod when he kisses her.

Its slow at first, because they’re both sort of expecting the other one to freak out, but eventually both of his hands are framing her face and she can’t help but try to move closer to him. She fumbles over the seat, falling into his chest. He laughs a little and reaches down to help pull her legs on either side of his hips.

“Are we really doing this?” he asks against her lips.

She pulls the hair at the nape of his neck a little bit, “Shut up.” She says.

She knows its wrong. She knows this is a mistake, but it doesn’t feel like that. It feels like she belongs exactly where she is and she’s so close to him- and yeah they’ve hugged hundreds of times- but he’s never felt like this. He’s so warm- she caged in between him and the steering wheel and she can’t even keep track of his hands because he makes this noise when she bites down on his lip and she honestly can’t even think straight.

She sits up a little and his hands cover the backs of her legs, his fingers tracing the hem of her shorts, then he pulls away “Clarke,” he says, “just- slow down. I need to think.”

“We shouldn’t think.” She says- a little amazed at how desperate her voice sounds.

He kisses her again, his fingers digging into her skin. 

The way this feels- she’s fine with it going on forever, even though she knows this is stupid and Bellamy is her friend and every time she’s ever felt even a little bit like this it’s ended in disaster. 

She feels him start to pull away again, and then there’s a loud buzzing sound – his phone vibrating from the cup holder. She snaps out of her haze and tries to jump back but her butt bumps against the jeep’s horn which only startles her more. Bellamy tries to frantically reach for the phone, she can see his hands shaking as she crawls off of him and back into the passenger’s seat. 

“Yeah O, what?” he says- and God she hopes Octavia doesn’t notice how breathy he sounds. “Sure,” he says, “I was kind of figuring you would say that- no just grab your stuff, I’ll worry about the rest. Yeah- yeah she’s fine. I’m fine too. Okay, I’ll see you later.”

He glances at her out of the corner of his eye and she tries to smile casually. 

“I guess we’re leaving?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Yeah, we’re leaving.”

“So, do you need help with the-“

“No, I’ll get it.” He says- that stupid smile spreading across his face.

They stare at each other until the last few notes of the song that’s playing fades into static.

“Are we just not going to talk about it?” He finally asks. 

She turns in her seat and stares out through the windshield. “I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about,” she says quickly, “it was – inevitable I think. I mean it’s sort of a relief right? Don’t you feel relieved now that it’s over?”

“Over?” he repeats with a sarcastic nod. 

“Yeah over,” she says, “as in we’ve gotten that make out we’ve never accidently had when drunk out of the way- and now all the …..sexual tension can just…”

“Were you even here for the last five minutes?” he asks. He sounds a little annoyed but he’s definitely still smiling, “Clarke that’s not over.”

“Excuse me?” 

“It’s not over. It’s not a one-time thing. Trust me, this tension isn't going anywhere.”

Her eyes are wide, “If I say it’s over- it’s over.”

“Okay.” He says.

“Stop smiling.”

“Stop blushing.”

“Oh my god just go get our stuff.”

He winks at her and opens the door.

“Bellamy I swear to God if you make this awkward I will never forgive you.” she yells as he closes the door.

She watches him run through the rain, and there’s a part of her that knows he’s right- it’s sort of terrifying but she just can’t stop fucking smiling. 

**#coolforthesummer**

It’s weird because he’s been over analyzing his feelings for Clarke for so long, but after that kiss in the jeep- everything just sort of starts to make sense. It’s only awkward because she’s so adamant that- _sure we can make out, and of course I’m into you, but people I get close too never stick around and I can’t lose you too_. So he’s patient with her- and he plays along with her denial. 

Structurally, their relationship doesn’t change all that much. They spend as much time together as they use too, do pretty much the same things, except now there is all this- extra stuff, like the sexual tension that had been brewing between them before has grown from a thin haze to a thick fog. 

They do this weird thing where they both are clearly fighting the impulse to kiss each other whenever they say hi or bye- but they aren’t dating, and Clarke has made that clear so usually he has to awkwardly ask if he can kiss her and she just rolls her eyes.

They are dating- she can call it whatever she wants but they’re dating- Bellamy and everyone that sees them knows it, but no one has the balls to say it to her. 

It becomes pretty clear to Bellamy during a Friday night pick-up lacrosse game with Murphy and Miller and couple of guys from high school that were still around. Wick had called him earlier in the day to tell him that something else had gone wrong with the power steering in the jeep. He didn’t expect it to be finished for another two days. Halfway to the field- after he’d caught a ride with Miller- Wick calls him to tell him that he managed to fix it, if he can come pick it up in the next 20 minutes it won’t have to sit in the shop all weekend.

Well there’s no way he and Miller can make it there in 20 minutes, and Wick apologizes over and over.

“I mean I could have a guy drive it over to you,” he says, “but I know how you are with people driving it-“

“No, no I’ll figure something out.” Bellamy pinches the bridge of his nose, “I’ll call you right back.”

He doesn’t even think twice about calling Clarke.

She’s out having coffee with that Raven girl, and when Bellamy explains the situation to her and asks her if there’s any way she can drive the jeep over to him she’s totally quiet.

“Clarke?” he says, thinking the call had dropped.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “you want me to drive the jeep?”

He sighs, “Yeah- ask Raven if she can drop you off at the shop and pick you up here, or leave your car at the shop and I can take you back to get it later.”

“That’s not a problem,” she says. “I just don’t think I understand you. You want me – not you- _me_ to drive the jeep?!”

“Don’t be a smartass.”

“I’m not being a smartass. I am genuinely surprised.”

“Clarke.”

“Okay, fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can. You’re at the old practice field right?”

“Yes,” He says with a relieved sigh. “Thank you.”

Miller is looking at him funny when he hangs up- it doesn’t occur to Bellamy just how big of a deal it is that he gave her permission to drive the jeep until he remembers that he and Murphy once walked home from the state fair because Bellamy was far too drunk to drive, their phones were dead, and Murphy may have been sober but there was no way Bellamy was letting him behind the wheel of that jeep. 

No one but Bellamy- and Wick for mechanical reasons- had ever been in the driver’s seat. The jeep was his- it was the only thing in the world that was truly his.

“So Clarke’s driving the jeep now?” Miller asks.

“Shut up.”

“Are you blushing?”

“Fuck you.”

Miller keeps up the ridicule- even during the game every time he takes a shot on goal. Bellamy has told him hundreds of times that Clarke is not his girlfriend, that they’re just friends. It had almost become like a reflex for the last month or so- “no, it’s not like that,” but when the jeep rolls into the lot and one of the guys goes, “Bell, your girl is here,” He doesn’t even think to say a goddamn word. 

She looks good getting out of his jeep- and sure she looks good doing most things- but she’s wearing one of those florally tank tops, and the shorts she swears aren’t too tight, and a pair of sunglasses that he’s pretty sure are his.

He tosses his stick to the ground and jogs over to her- despite the various “what the hell"s from the guys who are still playing.

“I didn’t hit anything!” she says, “Look at that, safe and sound in one piece.”

He laughs and reaches over to take the sunglasses from her face.

“This may not have been your best idea though,” she adds with a smirk. “I think Wick is in love.”

“With who?”

“Raven.”

He snorts as she tosses him the keys. 

“She should have been right behind me, but when I left he was standing in front of her car trying to get her to take back her comment about his mustache being “douchey beyond reason.” 

He smiles- mostly because she is. “You can hang out here if you want.”

She stands on her tip toes and looks over his shoulder- wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. “They look like they smell terrible,” she says. “Raven and I may go see a movie or something.”

He smiles again, puts the sunglasses back on her face, and nods. It’s so simple and she’s beautiful and as he looks at her he starts to wonder if the jeep really is the only thing in the world that’s truly his.

“Let’s go Romeo!” someone yells from behind him. He holds his middle finger up over his head without even turning around. Clarke reaches up and grabs his arm, she’s about to tell him to go ahead and leave her to wait for Raven- when a car pulls up into the lot and beeps.

“Alright that’s her,” Clarke says. “I’ll text you when I’m done. As long as you shower for a few hours we can probably do something later.”

He jingles the keys in his hand. “Sounds good. Thank you again- I didn’t mean to interrupt-“

“Jeeze don’t apologize to me,” she says with her arms raised in front of her “I actually got to drive the jeep. I never thought this day would come.”

“Yeah well don’t get used to it Princess.”

Raven beeps again and before they can get stuck in that awkward – almost kiss limbo , Bellamy just leans in and goes for it. It’s just a quick peck, but he can practically feel the heat coming off of her face when he pulls away.

“See you later,” he says with a grin. 

She tries to look annoyed- and she probably tries even harder to convince herself that he just did it to embarrass her in front of Raven, but it felt so natural to him- just kissing her- that he’s pretty sure he’ll never be able to say goodbye to her again without doing it. 

She’s a little weary of him that night- giving him side eyes and not sitting too close. Eventually he just apologizes and tells her the look on Raven’s face was hilarious. Truth is he didn’t even notice Raven’s face, but it puts her at ease and they avoid another “just as long as both of us understand that this isn’t dating” conversation. 

He understands her fears- especially considering that he’s never had a successful relationship and he’s been known to put his foot in his mouth and really hurt the ones he loves. He doesn’t want to hurt her and he’s fine with going slow- but as the summer progresses he just gets really bad at acting like he'said not her boyfriend…mostly because she’s not going to admit to it- and he’d never push her into it- but he is her boyfriend.

There’s a few times that she looks at him like she’s okay with that. 

They end that summer with fading sunburns, a few well-hidden hickies, and a ridiculous amount of Clarke’s stuff jammed in the back of the jeep.

He’s fucking dreading going back to school- even Octavia buzzing around the house, packing her stuff and planning how she’s going to decorate her dorm room- can’t exactly cheer him up. He is glad she’s going with him though, first and foremost because he’s incredibly proud of her, but also because Octavia will always be his best friend, having her around- even though he will never admit that he’s feeling all heartbroken and shit- he knows it’ll make it easier. 

Clarke is leaving a few days before them. She’s perfectly content with spending those last nights with him, they go get snowballs, he drives her out to the park and they watch a sunset, they indulge in quite a few make out sessions that nearly go too far (she may be adamant about them not dating, but he’s adamant about not becoming friends with benefits so he usually forces himself to pull away from her, for both of their sakes.) 

It’s all very romantic, and she looks happy- but for some reason it’s still not enough.

He gets up the nerve to ask to take her to dinner before she leaves for school- like _take her to dinner_ take her to dinner.

The smile disappears from her face the minute the sentence leaves his mouth. Her walls go up. She hugs him harder than she’s ever hugged him before, but she says no.

He just hugs her back.

He wouldn’t normally describe himself as a patient man, but then again he’s never had the opportunity to wait for something like Clarke.

Something that he’s almost positive feels like forever. 

**#finally**

She spends her 21st birthday out at a bar with a couple of guys from her bio lab. Jasper and Monty are perfect gentleman- you know besides the whole letting her get plastered thing- and pull her off of her barstool when it’s clear that she’s done for the night.

They walk her back to the shitty apartment she shares with an art major who is never home and she feels strangely depressed as she closes the door and turns around to face her dark living room. Having never really been that drunk before, she doesn’t really know what to do with herself. She makes a Hot Pocket that she doesn’t really eat, tries to get a shower but ends up giving up and running a bath because her feet are aching from the heels she was wearing, and finally she grabs a t-shirt and some underwear from a laundry basket and falls down onto her bed to stare at the ceiling. When she glances down and notices which t-shirt she’s wearing she reaches for her phone with a smile.

It’s 2:45 A.M. but he answers on the second ring. 

“Hey, you alright?” he asks. His voice is low and raspy and he’s probably all sleep ruffled and just thinking about him makes her squirm.

“I’m fine,” she says. “I just got home.”

He’s quiet for a minute. “You sound drunk,” he says. “Are you drunk Princess?”

She snorts, “You’re voice is ridiculous.”

“Why do I get the feeling that by ridiculous you mean ridiculously sexy?”

She laughs- and in that moment she wants to be next to him so badly she could cry. “I fucking miss you,” she says.

She hears movement from the other side of the phone-like he’s sitting up. “I miss you too.”

“We should go to dinner,” she says. “like really go to dinner- like you wanted.”

He sighs, “You’re drunk Clarke. You don’t want that.”

“I want you.” she lays her head against the pillow. “Hey,” she tries not to laugh, “ask me what I’m wearing.”

He snorts and mumbles something like “Dear God.”

“Come on, ask me.” she prompts.

“Clarke-“

“Please.”

“It’s late and you’re drunk.”

“Fine, I’ll just take a picture.”

“No- don’t.”

She rolls onto her back and brings her knees up- taking a quick picture of his High school State Championship Lacrosse t-shirt and her bare legs. She can still hear him trying to talk her out of it but all she can do is laugh as she presses send. 

“Look at it.” She says.

There’s complete silence for a couple of seconds but then he makes this noise- which is sort of like him awkwardly trying to clear his throat and mask a groan at the same time. “I cannot believe you’re doing this to me.” he mumbles.

She laughs and pulls the blankets back over herself. “I stole that shirt from your house after the eggnog incident on Christmas.” She admits.

“You can definitely keep it.”

“I really really wish you were here.” she says “the best birthday present the universe could give me right now would be the ability apparate.”

“You realize that Apparation is a Harry Potter thing right? In the real world we call it teleporting.”

“If it got me into your bed I don’t care what it’s called.”

He takes another deep breath, “This how I’m going to die.” He says.

“You know what the best present you could possibly give me right now is?”

“What?”

“Talk to me.” and she tries to make herself sound sexy- she almost laughs at herself, but it seems to work because Bellamy is quietly chuckling to himself in that way he does before he’s about to do something he knows he shouldn’t do- the way that makes him sound like he’s sort of in pain.

“Clarke- I’ve put a lot of effort into your birthday present but it does not include phone sex.”

“Why not?” she whines.

“Because the first time we-“he sighs and lowers his voice, “Fuck, look there are so many things I want to do to you and I want to tell you about every single one but we aren’t ready for this Princess. You’re drunk. You’ll regret this in the morning.”

Suddenly there are tears in her eyes. She grips her pillow and lays the phone down next to her ear “I’m sorry that I’m so- I know I’m difficult and I keep pushing you away.”

“You’re not difficult and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want to be with you,” she says. “And it’s the first time I’ve wanted that in such a long time but you’re Bellamy and if something goes wrong-“

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself to me Clarke. You know how I feel about you.”

“How do you feel about me?”

He laughs, “That’s another thing I’m not doing over the phone.”

She smiles- and her eyes start to feel heavy. Her silence must tip him off.

“Take your beautiful ass to bed Princess. Call me in the morning.”

She can feel herself start to drift off- “Why did I have to go to school so goddamn far away?”

“Happy Birthday Clarke.”

The next morning, when she wakes up, it’s to the UPS guy knocking on her door. He’s got a long cylinder- shaped package – which sort of looks like it has a poster inside. Clarke pours herself a cup of coffee and feeds her roommate’s cat before she’s conscious enough to look at it.

Bellamy’s name is at the top of the return address. Reading it brings back the memory of last night- she feels a little embarrassed but not enough to regret anything.  
She opens it carefully- unrolling a large laminated poster- something like a print you would frame and hang on a wall. She’s incredibly confused until she steps back and gets a good look at it- and then she bursts into tears.

It’s the mural from the hospital- the one painted along the left side of the South building. The one she watched them paint through the windows of her Dad’s hospital room. The one that she and Wells spent hours debating over because he thought the whole design showed the process of healing – and she said it was more like living and dying and the argument was ridiculous but she can still hear every word of it in her head. She had tried to paint that mural so many times- something like it even- just to see it when she was away. A picture of it had actually been the lock screen on her phone for quite a few months after she’d got to school.

Through her tears she notices a note on the ground- scribbled in Bellamy’s handwriting _“I talked to the guys that painted that mural for like two hours- they were alright. When I told them about you, and how much it meant to you I was expecting them to try sell me a print or something but they sent me the original draft- this is literally the paper that inspired it. I knew you’d appreciate it- and that it’s something you’ve missed since you’ve been away. Here’s their email address- you should talk to them about it- maybe it’ll finally answer some questions about what the hell it’s supposed to be. There’s a shop a couple of miles from your school that’s got a frame waiting for you- Layla’s Craft Corner or something? I don’t know – they recommended it. It’s ordered and paid for and you can pick it up whenever. The order number is on the back of this note. We’ll have to figure out how to get it home with you this summer- but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. I miss you. Happy Birthday Clarke.”_

She’s crying so hard it’s like she’s hyperventilating- she’s probably still a little bit drunk, but she can’t believe that he would do this, that he would go through so much trouble because she’d mentioned her love for that mural a few times. It’s terrifying that he can make her feel this way- so surprised and happy that she’s sobbing like a moron.

She reaches for her phone and squints through tears to find his name.

It’s 9:30 A.M and he answers on the third ring.

“Morning Princess, how’s the hangover? Whoa- Clarke, what’s wrong.”

“I got-“ she takes a breath, “I just got- “

“Hey, slow down baby talk to me- what happened. Why are you crying?”

“I got you’re present.” She says, “I got the painting.”

He’s silent for a minute, she’s pretty sure he’s got the wrong idea. “Shit- I’m sorry. Look, I didn’t think, I didn’t realize it would make you so-“

“I’m coming there.” she says, “I’m coming there tonight- I’m buying a plane ticket right now.”

She puts him on speaker and pulls up the browser on her phone- though she can barely see what she’s typing.

He probably understands what’s going on now- because he sighs the way he did last night- like he’s disappointing himself by arguing with her. “Don’t you have a lab tomorrow, and a meeting with your advisor?”

“I don’t care.” She sniffles and wipes her face with the back of her hand. “No one has ever done anything like that for me and I just- I need to see you.”

She’s shocked when he hangs up the phone- but a few seconds later he facetimes her- grinning through the screen, clearly still laying in his bed.

“This isn’t what I meant.” She says- laughing through the last of her tears.

He really looks at her- and his smile starts to fade. “I didn’t mean to make you cry Clarke.”

“I’m crying because I just- I’m so fucking lucky that you moved in with Marcus, and you got that stupid jeep, and I never appreciated what it meant when you were right next door.” She takes a deep breath and calms herself “ugh, don’t look at me- I’m gross.”

“Not gross,” he says, “never gross.”

“I’m sorry – for last night, and now- I had a lot of whiskey.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me for last night- trust me hanging up that phone with you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do- pun intended”

She snorts at him and leans back against the couch, looking at the mural out of the corner of her eye.

“I just wanted you to be happy Clarke- since you were stuck there on your birthday.”

“I am happy,” She says. “This is incredible Bellamy, I can’t even – explain…”

“You don’t have too, “ he says, “I can see it right-“ his finger points at her face through the screen “right there.”

She laughs again and hugs her knees to her chest and the words just sort of slip out, “I love you.”

He’s quiet- his face frozen. She feels panic start to race through her chest. “I uh- I’m sorry.” She says, “I’m sorry and I know- that’s out of nowhere and I’ve said over and over that I’m not ready for a relationship but – I love you. That’s not something you should say over the phone to someone and I probably sound like a goddamn idiot,”

“Clarke,” he says, “slow down.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Look at me.”

For a second it feels like he’s really there. She opens her eyes and looks at the screen. His eyes are more serious than she’s ever seen them.

“I love you.” he says.

She breaths a giant sigh of relief and almost starts to cry again.

“Yeah, I wanted to say that to you in person, after I’d actually taken you out but- it doesn’t matter. I was just waiting for you to be ready to hear it.”

“You’re sure?” she asks, “You’re sure that you-“

“Am I sure that I love you?” he asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything my entire life.”

They stare at each other for a few minutes- Clarke seriously thinks about buying that plane ticket, but then he smiles and tilts his head to the side and she’s so happy it’s stupid.

“So,” he says, “tell me about last night. You say whiskey- but I kind of think you mean cosmopolitans because you’re not exactly a hardass when it comes to alcohol.”

She sits and laughs with him until every tear on her face is dry. Her roommate comes skulking in and tries to start a conversation with her about the mural. When her phone battery starts to beep , she tells him she should probably go. His face falls a bit, but he nods and promises to text her later- because he should probably go and shower anyway.  
She tells him she loves him again- it feels even easier this time- and he smiles brightly and tells her he loves her too.

She spends the next two days trying not to overthink anything- especially when he doesn’t text her as much as he usually does, and when he does its only quick little one word messages. 

On Tuesday morning- when she has her early class- her head is foggy and she has no new messages on her phone, she gets up and dresses, tries to pretend like it’s any other day. She keeps one eye on her phone as she walks down the stairs of her apartment building- waiting desperately for it to ring and feeling like an idiot. 

The cool air hits her face when she gets outside, she pulls her jacket close and puts her phone in her pocket.

“Need a ride Princess?”

She stops dead in her tracks. Her knees almost locking together. She’s afraid to turn around, because there’s no way that’s it’s him and when she turns around she’s going to be so disappointed. But it sounded so much like his voice- the one she’d been waiting to hear since they’d hung up the phone on Sunday. So slowly she turns on her heels and looks over at the parking lot.

First she sees the jeep- parked horrifically sideways in a spot it barely fits in, then she sees him. He’s leaning against the hood wearing an ASU sweatshirt with a to-go cup of coffee in his hand. 

“There’s no way that you’re here.” she says, slowly walking towards him.

“The 28 hours I just spent on the road would say otherwise. It was slow going through New Mexico- thought she was gonna die out on me.” 

She drops the books she was carrying and runs the rest of ten feet to his arms.

In two unbelievably swift movements he has his arms around her waist and his lips pressed against hers. “I love you.” she says against his mouth,he lifts her up and sets her on the hood of the jeep so he can hold her face in his hands. 

He pulls away and smiles at her. “Five bucks says I love you more.”

“How did you- don’t you have classes or-“

“I did some rescheduling. Seeing that look on your face felt more important than Intro to Psych. It’s incredibly irresponsible, but I think it’ll be alright.”

“I just- I can’t believe this.”

He kisses her again and for a minute she forgets that she has class- “Shit,” she says, “I have class- we’re having a quiz I think….”

“No problem Princess, I need a nap. I figured I’d just crash in your bed- you only have the one class today right?”

She nods.

“Well then I’ll be waiting.”

They had gotten out of the habit of keeping score, but she’s pretty sure that if they were still playing that game- he definitely would have won. 

As she keeps walking towards the bus stop- she looks back and sees him pulling his old lacrosse duffle from the back of his jeep. He looks exhausted- but he’s still smiling, even after she’s out of his line of sight.

She’s going to have a hell of a time paying attention in lecture this morning knowing that the man she loves- that just drove 28 hours to see her- is just lying in her bed, waiting.

She shakes her head and smiles.

Fucking Bellamy Blake.

**FIN**


	3. Until the Night Turns: Wedding Date Remix AU Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _What if ....Clarke and Bellamy have a thing, but they aren't supposed to have a thing, and so when it's time to go to a wedding they have to find themselves some fake dates to cover up their thing....._

There is something unsettling about how domestic their rather unorthodox relationship has become.

Like right now for instance, when they should be succumbing to exhaustion or rushing to find their clothing (after very nearly knocking Clarke’s bedroom door off of its hinges) and instead they’re laying side by side scrolling through their phones talking about the dumbest shit.

Bellamy has never been one for conversation after fucking (which is what they’re doing, plain and simple) but somehow this had become like a routine for them, some kind of weird half-time show between rounds where he learns things like her obsession with abstract art and her aversion to lemon flavored deserts. He doesn’t give a shit about most of it, and she doesn’t expect him to, but she does get a few laughs out of him and even he can appreciate how difficult that is these days.

“What do you think about this,” she says as she rolls over and flips her hair over one shoulder “sliced bananas, marshmallow fluff, and Nutella on cinnamon toast, apparently it’s called the emotionally unstable special.”

“It sounds disgusting.” He’s looking over his fantasy football roster. Usually he doesn’t care, but he’s up against Murphy this week and damn it if that little bastard hadn’t been spamming his phone with a constant stream of shit talking for the past two days. “What kind of a sociopath mixes chocolate with cinnamon?”

“Well Mr. Hypercritical, judging by the popularity of this post, I’d say a very common kind.”

He ignores her and glares at the screen of his phone “You know, It’s fucking ridiculous that we have site blockers at work. I could spend so much more time on this roster everyday if I wasn’t limited to databases and basic google searches. It’s a law office not a high school.”

“Well there’s probably a reason for the site blockers, tell me on average how much time everyday did you spend looking a porn or Facebook chatting on your work computer?”

Bellamy snorts and shakes his head “Just another way for Kane and Jaha to micromanage every fucking thing we do.”

“Is Miller still thinking about quitting?”

“He can’t, money is too good. Student loans have us both pretty much trapped.”

“I can understand that.” She rolls over and sits up on the side of the bed, scoping the floor for a piece of clothing.

“Where are you going?” he asks in an uninterested voice.

“To see if you have any Nutella.” She finds her underwear on the other side of the night table and pulls them on. “Goddamn it Bellamy,” she hisses as she examines a dark purple bruise on her thigh “Your sister’s BBQ is this weekend. How am I supposed to wear a bathing suit with this thing?”

He sets his phone down and smirks at her “Wouldn’t be problem if you weren’t so pale.”

“Wouldn’t be a problem if you stopped giving me hickies.”

“You know you were very loud during that whole thing but I can’t seem to remember any complaining.”

She glares at him and rips the sheet from the bed to wrap it around herself. 

He finds himself laughing again “Someone would have to be staring pretty intently at your inner thigh to notice it Clarke, I think you’ll be alright.”

“I don’t know, I do have really nice thighs.”

She turns to walk away from him, but he manages to lean across the bed and grab her elbow and pull her back onto the mattress. “I’ve seen better,” he smirks into the skin on the back of her shoulder. He gives her enough time to roll her eyes before wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her on top of him. She lays there limply for a second, an act of defiance because she knows what he wants her to do, until his hands cover the backs of her thighs and guide them to settle on either side of his hips. 

“Ready to go again already huh?”

“Well, you were only supposed to check your email…somehow that turned into Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and whatever the hell Tumblr is.”

“Shit! I forgot to check my email!”

She starts to lean across the bed to grab her phone, he pins her legs in place “Clarke, it can wait.”

“It can’t. I need to know the second the lab work on Mr. Hunt comes in. Maya said she’d email me…”

“Clarke,” it’s hard to be seductive when you’re whining, but he’s focusing most of his attention on kissing the underside of her jaw and he can feel her resolve crumbling. 

“I’ll make it up to you,” she says with a bit of a stutter. She grinds her hips into his and smiles when he lets out a groan “Give me two minutes, I swear…”

“Fine,” with a firm grip on her hips he flips them around so that she’s pinned under him. She lets out a surprised squeal, but doesn’t complain when she realizes that she can now reach her phone uninhibited….at least until she notices that he’s sliding down her body and parting her legs.

“What are you doing?” she asks in a low voice. He glances up and she’s staring intently at her phone but he can tell he has her attention. If there’s anything on this earth that Bellamy Blake is good at , it’s getting Clarke Griffin’s attention.

“Having some fun.” He explains as he drags his thumbs across her hipbones “you just focus on your email, don’t mind me.”

“Bellamy…”

He drags his lips across the hickey she’d just been complaining about “What do you say Princess, how about I make it a matching pair.” 

“OH. MY. FUCKING. GOD.”

He’s no stranger to that phrase, especially when in his current position, but he knows this time it’s not for him. That particular tone (which straddles the border of rage and terror) is usually only reserved for one person. Bellamy knows enough about Clarke and her mother to realize he should probably be getting as far away from her right now as possible, he can’t though. Blame it on the domesticity, but his muscles react instinctively, pushing him up until he’s right next to her, leaning against the headboard and looking down at her phone.

“What?” he questions. She just keeps staring at the tiny print, rereading it over and over, clenching her fingers so hard he’s surprised her screen hasn’t cracked. “Clarke what is….”

“They’re actually doing it.” She finally says “They’re actually getting married. They’re getting married in…” she squints back down at the screen “three weeks and she sends me a fucking E-vite? People don’t send E-vites anymore and they never fucking sent them as wedding invitations!”

She’s sitting up now, legs hanging over the side of the bed with her head in her hands. Bellamy wants to comfort her, but he’s starting to think that he knows exactly who she’s talking about and it leaves a very uncomfortable feeling in his gut.

“This has got to be some kind of a scheme, it’s all about image with them it always has been, always will be.”

“Clarke, just so we’re clear who exactly are you talking about?”

She sighs and without turning to face him mumbles the words like she’s diagnosing him with a terminal illness “Abby and Kane.”

He groans and rolls around to find his own phone. There’s an email notification, but then again their usually is, he tries not to pay attention to them when he’s in bed with a beautiful woman but if Clarke’s right and Kane and Abby are putting on some prim and proper marriage ceremony for the sake of their public image, odds are he’d be expected to play along, and sure enough there it was in his inbox. 

His eyes skim it, three weeks away, somewhere on the coast. They’re calling it an “intimate ceremony” and yet they seem to have rented out an entire resort (he can only assume it’s one owned by the Jahas what with the short notice). They’ve given him a plus one, and he gets to choose his dinner option….oh and there’s the little note at the bottom explaining how this E-vite is part of the Going Green Initiative…like Abby couldn’t make it any more obvious that she’s running for office…

“This isn’t what people do!” Clarke exclaims “They get engaged, they plan a wedding, they TELL people. This...this is ridiculous. She can’t honestly expect people to show up to a weekend long wedding with three week’s notice. This is the goddamn campaign manager’s doing. She was perfectly content with her relationship with Kane until that bitch told her they were living in sin…now she wants to get married?!”

Bellamy rubs his hands over his face “She didn’t say anything to you about this?” he asks “anything at all?”

“Please, there’s a better chance of Marcus coming into your office and asking your opinion on centerpieces than my mother telling me something she knows is going to piss me off.”

“Well, they were planning on getting married eventually right?”

“I guess, but not like this! This is rushed and so obviously being done with an ulterior motive. This is basically one giant photo-opp. Vote for Abby Griffin and her perfect little family.”

She tosses her phone back onto the table and lays back, her head resting on his stomach. He sets his own phone down and brushes her hair out of her face. They usually try not to let their personal lives follow them through whatever bedroom door they disappear behind, but Bellamy has known the Griffin’s a long time. He knows what Clarke has been through with her mother and even though they’ve never really talked about it….he gets it.

“They invited the whole firm.” He tells her, which he assumes because he can’t imagine Kane just singling him out when their relationship is pretty much awkward professionalism at best. “So I’ll have to go, and smile, and kiss his ass because they’re going to be promoting someone to partner now that Sydney has left and the best way to impress these people is to act like you’re one of them.”

“But you’re not one of them.” She says it like it’s a compliment. That makes him smile.

“But I need to get paid like one of them…. I can worry about my principles later, right now I’m being crushed by loans."

“So you’re definitely going then?”

He takes a deep breath “Yeah. I’m definitely going. Fuck, I have to get a new suit.”

Clarke shakes her head and turns over onto her stomach to look at him. “She gave me a plus one,” she says nervously “Did you…”

“Uh yeah, me too.”

He can feel the question floating around in the air between them, and it makes him feel sick. First, because this thing with Clarke was always supposed to stay exactly how it is: simple and behind closed doors. Second, and most importantly, this thing with Clarke was always a massive risk for him (although really that just made it hotter, but he doubts that she’ll see it like that).

“So…”  
“Clarke,” he says “no.” Her face falls, but she nods. 

“No, I know that’s not what we are….really I didn’t mean it like that I just…”

“That’s not really what I’m worried about.”

She sits up and narrows her eyes “What do you mean?”

Well, here comes an argument (he’ll just have to put it all out there, pray for make-up sex, and hope for the best). “Do you remember that Christmas party last year? When we…. There was rum and mistletoe and…” It’s amazing that he’s had his mouth on pretty much every square inch of her body but he still stutters like a child when he talks about that night. He imagines its because things weren’t so well defined back then. When they kissed for the first time it felt like it could have turned into something. Now that he knew better….well, he liked things the way they were. 

 

“I remember,” she says.

“The next day, Kane pulled me into his office. He said he’d heard about my reputation. How I’d slept with just about every intern that had come through and brought a different girl to every firm function. He went on and on about how he respected me as a lawyer and acknowledged my talent, and then he started talking about you, how successful you are, how important it is to your mother that you continue to stay focused, how you’d had an incident in medical school with a boy that had nearly caused you to drop out,” Clarke made a noise of outrage but he held his hand up to pacify her, he knew the real story, he knew it was dramatized bullshit “basically he made it clear that I wasn’t good enough for you and if I didn’t stay away from his future step-daughter I could kiss my future at the firm goodbye.”

Clarke’s mouth is open in a silent fury (though he’s not sure if she’s mad at him or at Kane). Finally she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes “Why didn’t you ever tell me about this?” she asks “and more importantly why did we do…this… if you have so much at stake? Goddamn Bellamy, you could get fired.”

“How?” he snaps “We keep it to ourselves and no one has to know. I’m sick and tired of giving every ounce of my life to those people Clarke. We have fun and that’s all that matters. I don’t want to stop….doing this, it’s just…we can’t go together to the wedding.”

She still looks worried and there’s suddenly a knot of fear sitting like a weight in his stomach. He really and truly doesn’t want to give up what they have going on. Clarke’s become a great friend. He’s relaxed during their time together…and of course the sex is fantastic. He’s not ready to let it go yet, eventually….when she’s more comfortable in her career and is finally in a place where she wants a relationship…he’ll have to walk away but what they’re doing is fun. It’s not hurting anybody.

“Clarke,” he leans forward and catches her lips, pressing hard against them like he’s trying to make a point “I don’t want to stop seeing you, you know that.”

“No, I know.” She says “I don’t want to stop either….but I don’t want you to risk…”

“No one is going to find out.” He says “You’ll marry a rich doctor, I’ll slip up eventually and fall in love, and we’ll always keep this to ourselves. You have deep dark secrets with the rest of your friends right?”

Clarke almost laughs.

“Well, this is ours.”

“Okay,” she says “I hate that you’re taking a risk but okay.”

“Let me worry about the risk.” He kisses her one more time and wraps an arm around her shoulders.

“Now we just have to find dates.” She says with a sigh. 

He doesn’t want to talk about that, not when it’s just the two of them, and they'really naked, and he’s still got two hours before he’s supposed to call Octavia.

“Maybe we should worry about that another time,” he says “You’ve got a lot of steam to blow off and I promised you a matching hickey.”

She hits him on the shoulder and laughs…eventually her laughs turn into familiar gasps and moans, and when she leaves his apartment that night he’s pretty confident that everything is fine between them.

But, he still has to find a date to this stupid fucking wedding.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, I think I’ve made up my mind.”

He’s leaning against her kitchen counter watching her cut peppers into thin slices. 

This happens sometimes, usually when he has to skip lunch and he feels like he can’t give her the fuck she deserves on an empty stomach. Tonight, Clarke was making fajitas and seemed perfectly content with inviting him to eat with her. He figures it’s like a best of both worlds kind of thing. They have a really casual friendship and an incredible sex life. He gets to laugh with her and fuck her, and some other guy will be the one worrying about providing for her and being good enough. He can be exactly who he is when it’s like this and so can she, no worries, no strings attached. It’s a beautiful thing really.

“Made up your mind about what?” he asks.

“My date for the wedding.” He watches her very nearly cut her finger with the knife she’s waving around like an amateur. He snatches it from her and resumes cutting before he has to witness her do actual damage and stitch up her own wounds.

“Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Dr. Wiles. I mean I haven’t asked him yet but…what?”

Something about that doesn’t sit right with him. He stops cutting and looks up at her. “Wiles? Is that the guy that showed up at the bar during the Bruins game and forced you to take a selfie with him?”

“Uh, yeah,” she says, “that was him. Why are you looking at me like I’m an idiot?”

“Because sometimes you are.” She glares at him and he lets out a laugh. “That guy was really handsy Clarke.”

“Okay, so what? You’re really handsy.”

“Yeah, but he’s going to expect it to be more than what it is. That’s not the kind of guy that will settle for just one date. He was really into you, he’s gonna want more.”

“Well maybe I want more too.”

He freezes. It’s something he knows is going to happen eventually but he can’t help feeling like she should give him two weeks notice or something. 

“Really?” he asks.

She just rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “No,” she says, “but I am sick and tired of you acting like you know every guy in my life better than I do -and I don’t care about your experience as a big brother, it’s not like you’ve developed some superpower that lets you read minds.”

He smirks,“I'm always right.”

“Yeah well, I don’t have much time to find someone you deem worthy. I may just have to suck it up and break Dr. Wiles’s heart.”

“Bad idea,” he says.

“So I assume, since you’re so worried about my situation, that you’ve managed to find yourself a date?”

He moves on to the onion, staring down at it so he doesn’t have to see the judgmental look on her face when he answers, “I’m just gonna call Roma.”

“Now, _that_ is a bad idea.”

“It’ll be fun.”

“Until the weekend after, when she won’t stop calling you and you’ll go on two or three pity dates with her and try to act like a total asshole instead of just telling her you aren’t interested.”

“I am interested…sort of.”

“You need to stop leading that girl on Bellamy.”

“Well what am I supposed to do Clarke? I don’t know anyone else enough to invite them to a fucking resort for my boss’s wedding.”

He looks up and Clarke is biting her lip, “I um….actually had an idea about that.”

“About what? About my date?”

“Yeah.” She says “What about Raven?”

Raven Reyes had been Clarke's friend since they both dated the same boy back when Clarke was in med school. It was an unorthodox friendship, but Raven was brutally honest and loyal, and she had a bit of a history with Bellamy -sort of.

"Just because we got drunk and made out at a Halloween party three years ago, doesn't mean that I know anything about Raven Reyes." he says.

"All you need to know is that she's cool and fun and she'd do it for me if I asked her too."

He looks at her for a minute- like he's considering if this is actually the craziest thing she's ever said, which it might be. “Well then, why don’t I do the same?” he finally says.

“What do you mean?”

“You remember my friend Wick? The guy that lives on the floor above me?”

“Yeah, the one with the mustache.”

“Well, he owes me a favor….”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t really know him. I mean you and Raven…you know. I’ve only been around Wick a dozen or so times. We’ve barely had a conversation….”

“He’s a nice guy, he’ll be a gentleman and….he knows about us.”

She turns and glares at him. “What?!”

“I trust him, and he may have….overheard something one night. Don't give me that look, he knows about us and if we explain the situation he won’t be expecting anything from you. He can play the part of rich doctor boyfriend and you mother won’t notice the difference.”

“Bellamy I….”

“Look, do what you want, but Wick is the easy option. We can all hang out, he’ll make a good impression on people, and he’ll be good to you.”

“You mean he won’t try to sleep with me?”

“Just think about it okay?”

“And if I wanted some action that weekend?” she asks with a smirk. He walks towards her and cages her against the counter with his arms, leaning down to breathe in her ear.“We can get adjoining rooms, send Wick out for pizza or…”

She pushes him away and laughs.“Shut up. We aren’t doing anything with so many of your colleagues around. Don’t be an idiot.”

“I’m just saying, I think you’re underestimating how hard it will be to resist this….”

“Good news is if Raven is busy, your giant fucking head can take the extra seat.”

He ignores her. "Do you have green chiles?”

“No Bellamy…”

“This pre-made seasoning is horrible, we need a sauce…”

“I’m not eating any sauce you make okay? I’ve learned my lesson. I don’ enjoy eating things that make me feel physical pain.”

He smirks and opens her fridge in search of the hot sauce he swears he saw last week. Clarke is quiet as she watches him. “Do you really think he’d do it?”

“Wick? Yeah. If I asked him.”

“You don’t think it makes me sound….pathetic?”

He shuts the fridge and turns to smile at her, “He knows our situation Clarke. If anything he’ll accuse me of being the pathetic one.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

“You’re serious?”

Bellamy leans his head back against Wick’s couch and sighs.“Yeah. I’ll pay for everything. You just show up, pretend to be some doctor from Colorado or something, eat as much as you want, drink as much as you want, it’ll be like a vacation.”

“You want me to do all of this just so you can keep sleeping with this girl?”

“You owe me.”

“I know I do.”

“Stop fucking smirking at me and just say you’ll do it.”

Wick laughs, one of his big triumphant laughs, “Of course I’ll do it. Right now I’m trying to figure out whether you’re just bullshitting me or actually lying to yourself.”

Bellamy ignores him and hands him a print out of the email. “Here, that’s everything you need to know. Clarke’s number is at the bottom. You two should probably get together and figure out your cover story or whatever.”

Wick smiles and takes the paper “So why me?”

“Because you owe me a favor.”

“Right, but I mean….I’ve seen Clarke. It can’t be very hard for her to find a date.”

“You know about our situation and we wanted…”

“ _You_ wanted.” Wick says as Bellamy rolls his eyes. “You wanted it to be me, because you trust me not to try to get in her pants.”

“We wanted it to be you because you know the truth.”

“Oh I know the truth, do you?”

“You know, I anticipated this. I knew you’d get all smiley and try to turn this into some kind of romantic bullshit. Trust me Wick, Clarke and I….it’ll never be like that. This is a last minute solution to a mutual problem. If you’re willing to help us that’s great but could you do it without the patronizing smirk?”

Wick grins and salutes him “Yes sir.”  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarke struggles to catch up with Raven as she storms down the street.”

“No way, I’ve seen that romantic comedy. I’ve told you a million times, I am not interested in Bellamy Blake!”

“No! Raven it’s not….it’s not like that.”

Raven stops and looks at her. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m not trying to set you up with him.”

“Then why are you doing this?”

Clarke stares down at her feet.

“Clarke!”

“Okay! We’re kind of…I mean we’ve been sleeping together for a while and….”

“WHAT!”

“And if Kane finds out he could get fired so we just need to get through this wedding and oh my god, are you actually laughing at me!”

She is. She’s actually bent over and clutching her knees, like she’s never heard anything funnier in her life.“You and Bellamy? Seriously?”

“No! We’re not really together or anything, it’s just fun.”

“So fun that you have to create an elaborate scheme to bring fake dates to a wedding…”

“I don’t want him to lose his job because of me.”

Raven looks up at her with raised eyebrows.“So stop fucking him.” 

“Raven!”

“What? That’s the rational solution.”

“I don’t….I don’t want to stop okay. I like fucking Bellamy Blake, please stop laughing you’re making a scene.”

She straightens herself out and waves her hand like she’s trying to swipe Clarke’s irritation away.“You know what? I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“Oh yeah, I want front row seats for this shit show. And you haven’t said anything….but I know this must be hard for you. I’m sure you could use a friend there to take the edge off.”

Sometimes Clarke is surprised by how good of a friend Raven turned out to be. “Thank you.”

“I’m not paying for anything.”

“Oh, no of course.”

“And if he pisses me off….”

“You’ll gut him, I’m sure he knows.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The next step in this horrible process is a dress fitting at a high end boutique that makes Clarke want to vomit.

She stands outside the doors for twenty minutes while her mother “settles in” to their spot by the dressing rooms. Raven had agreed to come along- because an afternoon with just Clarke and her mother was a recipe for disaster and everyone knew it- but she was running late.

In the meantime, Clarke paced back and forth on the sidewalk in front of the repulsively well-lit uppity little shop.

She’d probably be considering calling for a cab and bolting- if she didn’t have Bellamy in her ear talking her down.

“It’ll be over in a few hours- you’ve made it through worse.” He says in a weird, hushed voice.

“Are you whispering?” she asks, “what the hell is the matter with you?”

“I’m – I’m in the bathroom at work.”

“You’re hiding in a bathroom to talk to me?” she scoffs.

“Don’t argue with me, we’re not discussing my problems- we’re discussing yours.”

“I don’t have a problem.” She says as she fiddles with a loose stone on the pavement with her boot.

“You can’t even be in the same room as your mother for two hours Clarke- that’s a problem.”

“Aren’t my Mommy-issues on the list?” she snaps.

They had made a list way back when this whole thing between them started- things they’d never talk about. Hers were pretty much all people: Mom, Dad, Wells, Finn, Lexa. His is like a grabbag of bad relationships, grudges from bar fights, and any arguments he may be having with Octavia at any given moment. 

“Yeah well this is a special occasion.”

She wants to argue with him, but she sees a cab pull up to the curb and Raven starts to climb out. “I have to go, Raven is here.”

“Hey, don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad.” She says. “Really, I’m just- annoyed with all of this.”

“Come over tonight.” He says- and now his low volume doesn’t sound so funny.

She snorts.

“I’m crouching in a bathroom just to talk to you- I deserve it.”

She knows he’s kidding, but she tries not to smile so Raven doesn’t see her and start to ask questions. “How about I make it up to you by sending you a nice edible arrangement?”

“How about you make it up to me by texting me all the filthy things you’d do to me if you were hiding in this stall with me?”

She can’t help but laugh this time. “You are gross,” She says. “you are just so gross- you belong in a high school boy’s locker room, like permanently.”

“Fine.” He says. “I didn’t want to tell you this, because I didn’t want you to get all clingy but Nutella was on sale 2 for 1 this week. I may have had a coupon.”

“Are you trying to bribe me with food?”

“Is it working?”

Clarke looks up and sees Raven standing right in front of her- staring at her with raised eyebrows. 

“I really have to go this time and you need to get the fuck back to work.” She says, “I’ll text you later.”

“Aye Aye Princess. Have fun trying on pretty dresses. Send me pictures.”

“Bye perv.” She laughs as she hangs up and Raven just smirks.

“You two are a fucking mess," she says. “This is going to be hilarious.”

Clarke ignores her as she slips her phone into her back pocket. “Alright just remember that you’re the one that’s going with Bellamy okay? Make sure to bring it up in front of her a few times- we have to establish a back story.”

“It’s amazing to me that maintaining your fuckbuddy relationship is like living out the plot of a spy movie.”

When they walk into the shop- awkwardly winding their way back to Abby’s corner. Clarke takes a couple of deep breaths and tries to keep cool. Of course the moment her mother sees her, she grabs her by the arm and drags her towards a dressing room with a smile on her face- she’s never had much patience for Clarke’s little personal time outs.

“I know all of this is- a little sudden,” Abby says. “So I want you to pick out the dress- whatever you want to wear, whatever color.”

“Don’t you want to match it to-“

Abby raises her hand, “I just want to make sure there’s at least one thing about that weekend that you won’t hate, " she says sadly.

It’s a tactic – a clever one- but one Clarke’s seen before. She and her mother have been subtly at war for years. She’ll fire off little passive aggressive comments like underwater missiles until Clarke sinks right into her guilt trip.

“Thanks Mom,” she says with a smile. “But I think we both know that this is your day and you’ve got every detail of it planned out. I’d be willing to bet there are already three dresses sitting in my dressing room.”

Abby smiles a little and tilts her head to the side. “Two, actually.”

“Alright.” Clarke grits her teeth and walks behind the curtain. The dresses are hanging side by side- probably in order of preference from left to right. They’re both blue- Clarke doesn’t have a problem with that.

The first is a floor length halter dress that is almost a turquoise color. Clarke isn’t nearly tan enough to pull it off so it only takes one glance in the mirror to rule that one out. The second- the second is actually really nice, but she knows it’s her mother’s first choice. It’s a lace and navy blue taffeta dress that would come down to her knees.  
The stubborn side of her almost hopes it doesn’t fit her when she tries it on, but it does and it looks great. She stares at herself in the mirror , hating the fact that she’s going to have to go out there and agree with her mother. 

To stall she pulls out her phone – snapping a quick picture of herself in the mirror and sending it to Bellamy with a question mark.

While she waits for his reply- and continues to stall- she hears her mother asking Raven questions on the other side of the curtain- she’s pretty sure Raven has successfully initiated the Bellamy background story.

“Clarke told me you two were seeing each other,” Abby says. “I was a little surprised.”

Raven is quiet for a minute, and then she clears her throat awkwardly. “He’s an nice guy,” she says. “He’s actually grown up a lot in the last few years.”

Just as Raven finishes the sentence Clarke’s phone buzzes and she looks down to see his response. 

_“Make sure it doesn’t have any buttons on it- I'm not great at undoing buttons with my teeth.”_

She sighs to herself- because the timing of that beautiful contradiction was almost comedic- but she can’t help but smile a little bit, like it’s almost a relief that Raven doesn’t really know Bellamy.

“He’s never seemed very pleasant the few times I’ve met him,” Abby says. “He always looks like he has somewhere better to be. Marcus says that’s just who is he- apparently he’s not really a people person.”

Clarke's fingers are clenching around her phone. The urge to defend him is a little surprising. In fact she’s actually thinking about texting Raven a response.

“No,” Raven says. “He’s great actually. I think you just have to get to know him well enough. He’s really good to the people he cares about.”

Her phone vibrates again and she glances down.

_“You look fucking beautiful Princess- I just figured that went without saying.”_

The smile on her face makes the dress look even better.

“Raven, if you’re happy, that's great,” Abby says. “But I just want you to be careful. I may not know Bellamy well, but I know about his past. I’ll say to you exactly what I would say to Clarke- men like Bellamy Blake are usually more trouble than they’re worth.”

Raven doesn’t say anything- and Clarke could kill her for it. 

“Clarke,” Abby calls out with a step towards her dressing room, “do you need help in there or-“

“No, I’m fine. I’m gonna go with the first one.” She calls through the curtain. “The shorter, navy one.”

“Well come out and let us see.”

“No. I’m good.”

She knows she’s being spiteful- and that she has to stop fighting her mother every time she tries to gain some ground, but it’s a reflex and it’s even worse when she’s being fueled by her mother’s comments about Bellamy.

So she sits in the little chair next to Raven and watches her mother try on eight or nine dresses that look exactly the same. Abby ends up choosing the first one. She and Clarke don’t talk much. Raven serves as a sort of buffer – but she’s smart enough not to bring up Bellamy again and Clarke certainly doesn’t want to bring up Wick considering they haven’t even started on their backstory yet.

Just as her mother is changing back into her street clothes, Clarke pulls out her phone and taps out a message to the number she had yet to use. 

_“Wick, it’s Clarke. We have some planning to do. When can we talk?”_

Raven must read the message over her shoulder because she nudges her and looks at her with a little bit of concern.

“So how much do you know about this Wick guy?”

“Well I know that his first name is Kyle, he’s an engineer, he makes turkey chili that Bellamy calls “orgasmic”, and he won a mustache contest once.”

Raven nods, “I assume Kyle the mustached chili chef is not the role he’ll be playing at the wedding?”

Clarke shakes her head. “No, I was thinking pediatric oncologist.” She says, “It’s impressive, but it’s the most heartbreaking job in the world so no one will ask questions.”

Raven just stares at her, “It’s sort of fucked up how much effort you’re putting into this.”

Her phone buzzes with Wick’s answer.

_“I’m free tonight. I just saw your man whining like a little bitch on Twitter because he has to work late so I figured you would be too.”_

She smiles, just as her mother emerges from her dressing room.

“Clarke, I just got an email from Marcus. He’s made reservations for Saturday at DiMarco’s- it’s going to be our engagement dinner.” She looks up at her, “7:00 sharp. Make sure you switch your shifts around at the hospital.”

She forces herself to nod with a tight lipped smile.

“And I don’t know if you still need a date-“

“I don’t,” she says. “We’ll be there.”

Abby looks like she really wants to ask who the mystery date is- but a woman comes up to her with a clipboard and starts asking her a bunch of questions about pick up and payment. Clarke takes that as her cue to bolt.

“Mom, I’ve gotta go.” She says, walking quickly to the door and dragging Raven with her. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

When they get out to the street, Clarke breathes a sigh of relief while Raven hails a cab. 

“So you really think this is going to work?” Raven asks.

Clarke climbs into the cab after her and shrugs her shoulders. “There’s no reason for it not to work.” She says.

And as the cab pulls away from the curb, she shoots off a text to Bellamy promising to come over that night. 

After a day like today she could really use some Nutella. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She heads over to Wick’s place after she and Raven have a late lunch. 

They avoid talking about men nearly the entire time- which is great. They make plans to drive to farmer’s market on Sunday as long as Clarke survives her mother’s engagement dinner.

When Wick answers the door, he’s wearing a ratty old Corona t-shirt and pajama pants with ninja turtles on them and he smiles at her like he’s not the least bit ashamed. 

“Hey there Dr. Griffin,” he says.

“Hey Wick, nice digs.” She walks past him with a smirk and he shuts the door behind her.

“So did you bring like – notebooks and poster board?” he asks.

“No, because we aren’t working on a seventh grade science project.”

He gestures for her to sit on his couch. “You want a beer or something?”

“No I’m alright, but thanks.”

He nods and sits down in an armchair across from her. “Alright Doc,” he says, “spit me a love story.” 

She laughs and shakes her head. “First things first, you should know that we may have to put on this little charade a bit earlier than originally planned.”

He raises his eyebrows but he doesn’t seem nearly as surprised as she thought he’d be.

“My mother planned an engagement party this Saturday.” She says. “Dinner at Di'marcos."

He nods and leans back in the chair.

“You’ll have to wear pants without cartoon turtles on them.”

He squints his eyes like he’s thinking for a second- and then nods “I have a funeral suit, will that work?”

She can’t tell whether he’s joking, until he starts to laugh. “I’m not a goddamn animal Griffin.” He says. “I work at MIT- trust me I have a shit ton of nice clothes.” He shakes his head like that’s not exactly a good thing. 

“Okay,” she says. “Good.”

“I do plan on telling Bellamy he has to buy me a suit for the wedding," he says. "How do you feel about Hugo Boss?”

She laughs and leans back a bit. “We should worry about the story before the suit, " she says.

He nods, “Alright, what kind of a guy are we shooting for?”

“You can keep your name,” she says. “They’ll only be meeting you once and then as far as they know we’ll have a horrible break up and never speak again.”

“Well that’s romantic.”

“I was thinking you’d be a doctor. Pediatric oncologist- that way people won’t ask many questions. We can say that you’re from Denver or somewhere out west, and that you’re only in town for a few months to work with a patient or something- that part can be sort of vague.”

“Okay,” he says, “what part needs to be specific?”

“How you got me to agree to go out with you. That will be the story everyone wants to hear- especially my mother.”

“So how did I get you to agree to go out with me?”

“I have no idea,” she says. “I figured that was the part you could come up with and then you can just run it by me before Saturday.”

“Sounds like a plan, " he says. “What do we do about the fact that we know virtually less than nothing about each other?”

“Stalk each other’s social networking sites, " she says, “and I thought we could just- make a must know list that we can memorize.”

“So basically I’m enrolling in college course to be your boyfriend?”

“To be my pretend boyfriend yes.”

He nods and takes a drink out of a beer sitting on the end table, “Well hell as long as I don’t have to pay for any books- I’m in.”

She breathes out a relieved sigh and pulls out her phone to check if Bellamy had texted her yet. “So there’s only one other issue we have to address-“ she says without looking him in the eye, “ the uh- intimacy.”

He chokes on his beer. “The uh- the what?”

“The- you know, we have to look like we like each other. Which means we have to dance and be close to each other and – kiss I guess.”

His face is pale. “No,” he says. “I don’t think I’m allowed to touch you- like at all.”

“Allowed?”

“Look I know Bellamy seems all classy in his fancy lawyer suits, but I go to the gym with the guy. I’ve seen him kick box. There’s no way in hell-“

“Oh my God Wick- he knows what we’re doing. This was his fucking idea in the first place. Why would he get mad?”

He raises his eyebrows at her like she’s speaking another language.

“I know this all sounds crazy, but I don’t want Bellamy to lose his job okay, so you’re just going to have to put your damn arm around me and make out with me once or twice and get the hell over it.”

“But he-“

“He’ll get the hell over it too.”

Her phone vibrates and she looks down and sees that it’s him- asking her what she wants for dinner. She has one of those minutes where she’s sort of dumbfounded by the domesticity of it- but she can’t really think about that right now.

“The hubby on his way?” Wick asks.

She rolls her eyes and stands up. “I’m gonna send you a cheat sheet of a bunch of stuff you need to know about me alright? You do the same and we’ll touch base in a few days.”

Wick salutes her and stands up to walk her to the door. She turns before she opens it and wraps him in a one-armed hug. “Thank you for this Kyle. Really.”

“Hey man,” he says, “I’m getting a couple of free dinners out of it, no need to thank me.”

She smiles at him.

“But you’re welcome.”

That night she runs she and Wick’s back story by Bellamy a few times and she also gets started on the _things Wick needs to know about her_ list- only thing is, Bellamy seems to write most of it.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
He doesn’t usually spend Saturday nights in bars.

He hasn’t since Law school.

But when the alternative was sitting in his apartment and pretending to watch TV – spending some time with his sister- while simultaneously getting plastered- seemed like a pretty good idea.

Octavia is on her third beer. She’s going on about the promotion she’s hoping to get a work. She’s been on the police force for four years now- Bellamy is more proud of her every day.

“So Indra has me looking for this informant she used to deal with- some guy named Lincoln. I get the feeling he’s gonna be a real pain in my ass.”

Raven snorts into her glass. He’d invited her along so they could work on their “story”, but they hadn’t done much talking about it. People won’t grill him the way they’ll grill Clarke and Wick.

He looks down at his phone and Raven sighs dramatically. “If you keep looking at that phone I’m going to kill you,” she says.

He shakes his head, “Fuck you Reyes. I’m waiting for an email.”

“Oh bullshit,” Octavia says. “You’re stalking Clarke’s Instagram. I’ve been watching you do it all night.”

He quickly swipes his phone from the bar and puts it in his pocket. “I am not- why the fuck would I be stalking her Instagram?”

“Because of that super cute picture she posted with that Wick guy at her Mom’s engagement party.”

He rolls his eyes and takes another drink.

“Awe.” Raven says, pulling out her own phone. “I want to see.”

“Why do you look so annoyed Bell?” Octavia asks.

“I’m not annoyed –“ he sighs, “it’s not what you think.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t care that she’s with Wick- Wick’s great, she’ll have fun, but it does piss me off that I couldn’t go with her just because Kane doesn’t like my attitude.”

“Is that how you feel about the wedding?”

He drains his glass. “Yeah," he says.

“I don’t understand why you don’t just say fuck it and go with her.”

“Because I’ll lose my job," he says.

“Yeah but you and Clarke-“

“O, just don’t.” he says. “Clarke and I are fine. I’m just frustrated.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Raven says dramatically “this is Wick?” she holds her phone up with a picture of Clarke and Wick outside of a fancy restaurant. 

“Yeah.” Bellamy says. 

“This guy- this asshole right here?”

“Do you two know each other?” Bellamy asks with a smirk.

“This is the guy- this is that fucking TA from MIT- he used to fucking argue with me on my tests- just scribble little messages in the margins. Goddamn I always wanted to punch him in the face but I never knew where he lived.”

Bellamy laughs, “I know where he lives.”

“I can’t be around him," she says, “because if he remembers who I am and says one word to me I’m going to drop kick him.”

“Well this will be an interesting experiment,” Octavia says. “Seeing which one of you punches the poor guy in the face first.” 

“Why would I punch Wick in the face?” Bellamy asks as Raven continues to fume. 

Octavia smirks as she holds up her phone- a new picture of Clarke and Wick on the screen. “Because he’s doing what I know you wish you could.”

“Eating steak?”

“Being her boyfriend.”

The look he gives her must be serious enough for her to realize that talking about Clarke is off limits for the rest of the night. Instead he listens to Raven get more and more drunk- and angrier by the drink.

Octavia agrees to take her home when she gets too loud. Bellamy finds his way to a cab- but he doesn’t go home- he ends up at Clarke’s apartment. She doesn’t look surprised at all to see him.

She hasn’t changed out of her dress yet and looking at her- he’s afraid his sister may be right. 

**Part 2 coming soon!**


	4. Until the Night Turns: Wedding Date Remix AU Part 2

_What if ....Clarke and Bellamy have a thing, but they aren't supposed to have a thing, and so when it's time to go to a wedding they have to find themselves some fake dates to cover up their thing.....and then everything sort of blows up in their face and they realize their thing is actually sort of way more than either of them ever expected it to be..._

 

The week before the wedding flies by. 

Clarke tries to cling to every minute.

The night before they have to leave- Clarke purposefully works a late shift so she can sleep in until the afternoon. They’re supposed to leave to drive up the resort at 2. At 2:20 Wick is still banging on her door- she’s just laying on her back staring up at the ceiling trying to decide whether it’s worth it to break her own foot so she can’t walk down the aisle. Her phone rings and she reaches for it lazily. When she sees Bellamy’s name she holds it to her ear and sighs.

“Go unlock the door.," he says, before she can even say hello. 

She groans and pulls a pillow over her face.

“Clarke, I’m serious,” he says. “You are a grown ass woman. You have to go, enough with the tantrum.”

 

“You’re right. I am a grown woman, so I don’t _have_ to do anything.”

“Go let Wick in. You two should already be on the road.”

“I’m not going.”

“I swear to God if I have to come over there- actually better yet, I’ll just send Reyes. She’s in a hell of a mood.”

She hears a muffled “fuck you” and laughs.

“We’re all going to be there,” he says. “stop convincing yourself this is a big deal. You knew they were going to get married one day.”

“We don’t need to have this conversation again.”

“Then pack your stuff and let Wick in. I’ll see you tonight.”

She hangs up on him- but it doesn’t really matter because she’s pretty sure he hung up on her about the same time. She gets up and lets Wick in- who looks as unamused as she’s ever seen him. He raises his eyebrows at her baggy sweat shirt and sleep shorts and mopes into her apartment. “I guess we’re gonna be late,” he says as he flops down onto her couch. 

“I have to shower,” she says, “and pack.”

“Christ Clarke- we’ll be lucky if we get there in time for the damn wedding.”

She rolls her eyes and stomps off to the bathroom, “Yeah, that was kind of the idea.”

They’re three hours late. It shouldn’t be a big deal because there isn’t even anything going on that night, but for the last hour of the ride her phone was constantly vibrating: her mom’s “where are you?”s, Bellamy’s “Are you lost?”s, and Ravens “If you don’t get here soon I’ll fucking kill you”s. 

Wick plays a Beach Boys CD for the entirety of the drive- literally 12 of the Beach Boys greatest hits- over and over. He refuses to stop for her to get a coffee, or a sandwich, or for her to pee. She knows that he’s a little pissed off at her because of the way she’s been acting- but he’s still smiling at her. She tries to go over their story with him- but as they drive the simple _Bellamy introduced us at a party_ story turns into an intricate tale of hot air balloons, international espionage, and a hoard of labradoodle puppies. He thinks he’s hilarious- laughs at himself for five minute spells- but Clarke just wants to grab the wheel and drive them into a tree.

“You need to lighten up Doc.” He says. “As soon as we get there we’re getting you a drink.”

“That’s the first thing you’ve said all day that hasn’t been completely fucking stupid, " her head is leaned against the glass- fogging it up as she breathes. She knows she must look like a teenager being dragged on a family vacation where she won’t have internet access – but she really doesn’t care, and she’s not going to try to hide it. They pull into the resort as the sun is setting- it’s just a bunch of overpriced tiny little hotels clumped together overlooking the cliffs of Maine. It could have been worse, she could have sent them all to some private island where Clarke wouldn’t have the option of stealing Wick’s car and bolting if she got pissed.

Wick stares off at the sunset after they park the car. Clarke doesn't find it entrancing at all, she just flips her sunglasses onto her face, grabs her suitcase and the garment bags, and slams the car door shut.

“Take it easy sunshine," Wick says. “Let’s just go and check in, then we can get drunk alright?”

“Let’s get something straight,” she says as he struggles to catch up with her. “I know my Mom was fawning all over you at dinner last weekend- but you need to be just a little bit ruder to her okay, because if not I’m gonna get so much shit when we break up.” Her bad attitude leaves a nasty taste in her mouth- she’s half expecting Wick to turn around, get in his car, and leave her, but he just sighs and quickens his pace.

“Be ruder,” he says. “Got it.”

“And leave your shirt untucked or something- so they think you’re a slob.”

“I’m confused, isn’t the goal here to impress-“

“The goal here is to keep them off of my fucking back.”

“And to keep them from noticing that you’re fucking Blake.”

Her eyes get wide and she looked around in a panic, “Keep your voice down.”

He just laughs and drapes and arm around her shoulders.

When they check in at the front desk the attendant insists on calling up to her mother’s room- apparently she was instructed to do so as soon as Clarke arrived. So Clarke and Wick are forced to stand there and wait until Abby and Kane come out of the elevator.

“Thank God you’re here,” Abby says. “I was starting to worry.”

Wick waves her off with a good natured smile, “We just hit some traffic.”

“Well you’re just in time,” she says. “We were just about to have dinner-“

“We already ate,” Clarke says. “We need to unpack and I need a shower.”

Abby looks a little disappointed but she nods. “Alright, but meet us for breakfast in the morning. I have some things I’d like to talk to you about- and take the glasses off Clarke, you’re inside.” Clarke moves her face away when Abby tries to pull the glasses from her eyes, but nods enthusiastically and grabs Wick’s arm. “I’ll text you in the morning, good to see you Marcus.” Wick barely has time to grab the room key from the counter before Clarke pulls him into the elevator. 

“How was that?” he said. “I didn’t even shake Kane’s hand.”

She leans against the wall of the elevator and nods, “Yeah, it was great.”

He groans, “Are you going to be this much of a buzzkill the whole weekend because-“

He’s cut off as the elevator doors _bing_ open on their floor. Bellamy is standing there with a couple of the guys he works with. He raises his eyebrows when he sees them, smirks when he takes in her less than amused expression.

“Hey there Dr. Wick,” he says, extending his hand as Wick drags their bags off of the elevator. Clarke stands awkwardly behind him and taps her foot as Bellamy introduces him to his three colleagues. “And you all know Dr. Clarke Griffin,” he finally says, “Judging by her facial expression I wouldn’t risk a hand shake.”

Clarke shoots him a smile and pulls her bag from Wick’s hand. “I need to change,” she says. 

“Always a pleasure Dr. Griffin.” Bellamy calls at her retreating back.

When she gets to her room, she falls backwards onto the bed and pulls out her phone to send Raven a _“where are you?”_

She responds with a picture of the indoor pool _“Been here for two hours. Pretending to tan.”_

_“Be there in 5.”_

Wick comes into the room, still laughing from whatever conversation he’d been having with Bellamy and the monkey suits.

“Blake says we should meet up at the bar tonight around 8.”

Clarke barely looks up at him, “Sounds good,” she says. 

“In the meantime, what are you doing? Because I’m pretty sure I’m going to powernap”

She sits up and starts to open her suitcase. “That’s fine. I’m just going to meet Raven by the pool”

He’s asleep by the time Clarke leaves the room.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
“Calling you Dr. Wick was the weirdest thing I’ve ever done in my life.” Bellamy says as he takes a long swig of beer . He and Wick had been sitting at the bar waiting for their “dates” for the last half hour.

“I do have a doctorate,” he says, “so I am technically a doctor.”

Bellamy just laughs, “Yeah- whatever you say buddy.”

Before Wick can reply, Clarke steps in between them- setting her clutch bag on the bar and sighing dramatically. 

“I need a drink.” She says, offering the young bartender a smile so big it makes Bellamy raise his eyebrows.

“You doing alright there Princess?” he asks.

She doesn’t answer him until the bartender sets a glass down in front of her. “I’ll be fine,” she says. Bellamy is waiting for her to look up and meet his eyes- because that’s the only way he’ll be able to gauge how much of a disaster this weekend is going to be, when he hears the click-clack of high heels behind him. He turns around and sees Reyes- looking almost as annoyed as Clarke- flagging down the bartender. 

“Wick,” he says. “This is Raven Reyes, Reyes this is Kyle Wick.”

She squeezes her eyes shut for a minute, and it’s hilarious to him because she had begged him to let her use a fake last name to hopefully throw Wick off from remembering her from MIT. She was going to be so pissed, but honestly the look on both of their faces is worth it.

“Holy shit," Wick says slowly. “Reyes, I know you.” he points down the bar at her and she shakes her head.

“I don’t think so.”

“No, no I definitely do. You were in Professor Rowland’s class, I was a T.A.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re the one that used to get all pissed off when I corrected your essays.”

It’s quiet for a second. Bellamy- absolutely giddy because he knows what’s about to happen- cracks his knuckles and leans back on his stool so he can look back and forth between them. Clarke has her head buried against her arm on the bar- he’s not sure if it’s because she’s aware of the situation or she’s just that miserable. 

“Corrected?” Raven hisses at him. “You didn’t correct anything- all you did was fill the margins of my papers with your ridiculous commentary which was nothing but pretentious, off-topic nonsense.”

Wick doesn’t look offended. Instead he smiles and shakes his head. “Well yeah- I’m sure someone as stubborn and narrow minded as you would see it like that.”

Raven’s eyes are wide, “You don’t know me.” she says.

“Well I mean – I read a lot of your work. I know you a little bit.”

“You fucking do not. My God- four years later and he’s still just as smug and fucking irritating as he was then- with your girly handwriting and purple pens.”

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with a man writing with a purple pen.”

Bellamy is having a great time- especially because the purple pen thing really seems to have struck a nerve with Wick – but Clarke sits up and puts her hand between their argument. 

“Why don’t you two revisit this when there aren’t a dozen of my mother’s colleagues around?” she says. 

Wick rolls his eyes and finishes his beer. “Sorry boss.”

“I think we should get a table and go over our stories one more time," she says.

Raven shakes her head. “I think we should get drunk because this was a stupid idea and I kind of hate myself for going along with it.”

“Amem," Wick says, raising his empty bottle.

Raven glares at him like he’s just cursed at her. “I mean who is going to believe that this guy is someone that people actually trust with their lives?”

Wick smirks and leans over towards Bellamy, “She’s only picking on me because she digs me- it’s basic kindergarten psychology.”

“I know I can feel the chemistry in the air,” Bellamy says. “how about you Clarke?”

“Leave Raven alone, she’s doing us a favor.”

It sounds coupley when she says _us_. He’s pretty sure he’s the only one that notices it because it’s just a word- but it also draws his attention to the fact that his own hand is resting on the back of Clarke’s barstool, her back leaning against his arm. He’s probably only doing it because it’s been almost a week since they’d been able to –hang out, but it’s the kind of shit he doesn’t need anyone to see him doing. So he pulls his arm away – under the guise of reaching for the phone in his pocket- and turns towards Raven.

“Well sweetheart,” she says. “I hope you’re prepared to foot a pretty hefty bill tonight.”

It turns out to be more of a promise than a threat. Clarke has to hook her arm through Raven’s to guide her to the elevators when they finally leave. She’s not particularly loud – she just keeps calling Wick a “punk ass bitch” and Bellamy is pretty sure the other patrons of the bar don’t find it as funny as he does.

Their rooms are exactly four apart – on opposite sides of the hallway. Clarke follows Bellamy to his – dragging Raven along with her, Wick calls out a good night and lets Clarke know he getting in the shower- he tacks on a “sweet pea” and a wink in case anyone over hears them. It’s pretty much the most annoying thing Bellamy has ever heard come out of Wick’s mouth.

As soon as Bellamy closes the door to the room, Raven shakes Clarke off of her and disappears into the bathroom. Clarke stares pointedly at the two queen beds and raises her eyebrows. “Good thinking,” she says, “we’ve just got the one.”

He fumbles when he tries to plug his phone into the charger – “You what?”

“We just have a king,” she says – pulling back the covers on Raven’s bed as if she’s preparing to tuck her in. “For appearances,” she adds when Bellamy continues to look at her like she’s just confessed to an embarrassing fetish.

Bellamy of course is trying incredibly hard not to be bothered by the fact that Wick will be sleeping – literally sleeping- with her. Because it’s not a big deal – logically it’s not a big deal – it really shouldn’t feel like a big deal. “He could sleep on the floor," he hears himself say.

Clarke lets out a laugh and focuses on rearranging the pillows on Raven’s bed. 

“It’s not a problem – I mean it’s sort of like having a sleepover with a big, doofy cousin.”

“Yeah but he’s not your cousin.”

She stops and looks at him, “Oh right,” she says, “they were serving Jamesons at the bar- time for the jealous Bellamy show.”

“I’m not jealous.” But even as he says it he reaches for the mini bar. She’s right about the whiskey – it doesn’t exactly turn him into a better person. 

“And anyway Wick is terrified to touch me – I practically had to beg him to kiss me at the restaurant last Saturday.”

Bellamy freezes with a tiny bottle of Jim Beam half way to his lips, “He failed to mention that,” he says bitterly. It’s not like he’s really bothered by it – it’s just….he and Raven were pulling off the fake dating thing just fine without touching, or kissing, or sharing a bed. 

Clarke walks over to him – a little wobbly from her buzz and her heels on the carpet. She grabs the bottle from his hand and sets it on top of the mini –fridge. “Wipe that crazy, evil Darth Vador look off of your face.”

He snorts, “Shows what you know – Vader wore a mask and when he took it off –“ Bellamy circles the outline of his face with his finger , “nothing like this – just wrinkly, and dying, and sad.”

“And see right there is your proof- I am not nearly fluent enough in nerd for Wick to be attracted to me. Stop worrying.”

“Worrying?” he fakes a laugh, “Why would I worry? I don’t care – it’s you know, whatever.”

She grabs the collar of his shirt and forces him to look at her. “A man and a woman can share a bed without doing what you and I do.”

He groans, “Don’t talk about that right now.”

She smirks – he remembers that she was drinking tequila at the bar, tequila makes her dangerous, “Why not?” she asks, her fingers tangling in his hair and drifting down to pull on his earlobe.

“Because I will take you out on that balcony and do crazy inappropriate things to you. We’ll both definitely be arrested for public indecency.”

She shrugs, “No worries, I know a good lawyer.” She’s just about to kiss him when Raven storms out of the bathroom – she’s dressed in one of those overly fluffy robes, her hair tied up in a towel. She takes one look at them and pretends to barf. “If you’re going to do that – go somewhere where I don’t have to witness it.”

Bellamy sighs – and when he nods to the balcony, it’s pretty clear that he won’t be making good on his promise. They just need to talk.

And they do – they sit in the uncomfortable cast iron patio chairs and talk until it gets so chilly Clarke starts to actually shiver. By that time all the lights in the room are out – save for the TV. Bellamy is pretty sure Raven is passed out. Clarke seems to take it as her cue to leave. 

“I should go get some sleep,” She says “I have to have breakfast with my mother tomorrow and get ready for that goddamned rehearsal dinner.”

When she stands up, he blocks her path to the door – and he knows he’s being a little crazy, but he’s starting to think that everything about this weekend may have been a bad idea. “Stay here with me.” he says suddenly.

Clarke looks at him in horror “Raven is right there sleeping!”

“I didn’t mean – I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant instead of going back to your room and _just_ sleeping with Wick, stay here and _just_ sleep with me.”

She’s still trying to act like she thinks it’s crazy, but he can see her consider it. It’s a pretty rare thing for them to do – they aren’t exactly big cuddlers but it’s not unheard of. She has to be more comfortable with him than Wick, just because she knows him so much better.

“I can’t,” she finally says. “You know I can’t. My mom could come looking for me, Raven would probably wake up, get the wrong idea, and never forgive me and honestly Bellamy – you and I both know that attempting to _just_ sleep would never work – not tonight, not when you’ve had whiskey, I’m incredibly fucking stressed, and it’s been over a week since – the last time.” She gives him a significant look and he laughs.

“So you don’t want to stay because you don’t think I can resist the urge to fuck you?”

“Oh I want to stay.” She says “I just can’t. I know exactly what’ll happen if I get into a bed with you tonight.”

“Tell me,” he leans forward to whisper it seductively, but ends up reaching out to tickle her sides – for some reason he just really wanted to hear her laugh, maybe there was too much tension, “tell me everything,” he says as she smiles and tries to squirm away from him, “detailed descriptions, every dirty detail.”

“You need to go to bed,” she says, “you’re embarrassing yourself.”

He laughs and pulls her into a hug – the friendly kind, at least that’s his intention.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks against her hair. She nods and pulls back from his chest. 

“It’ll be over before I know it.” She says – and he feels like that’s probably a mantra she’s been repeating in her head all day. She sighs and shivers one more time- and then leans forward to kiss him on the cheek.

“Goodnight.” She says.

She’s through the doors before he can even think to say anything to stop her. He follows after her a few minutes later – collapsing straight into bed and turning off the TV. He’ll shower in the morning, right now he just wants to be unconscious.

“Did you two bang on the balcony?” he hears a muffled voice ask.

“Grow up Reyes.” He says, turning his back to her.

She laughs into her pillows, “Good God,” she says, “the speech I’m going to give at your wedding will be fucking fantastic.”

He doesn’t respond to her – he’s far too distracted by the stupid swooping feeling in his stomach after hearing the phrase “your wedding.”

Yeah, this weekend was an incredibly stupid fucking idea.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Clarke wakes up – Wick is leaning over her.

He’s wearing a pair of tattered glasses, his hair is all over the place, and the only word she could possibly think of to describe the look on his face is grumpy.

“You’re mother has been calling your phone every five minutes since 6 am.” He seethes. “It is now 7:30 – we didn’t even get back to the room until 2 last night. Five hours of sleep Clarke- I’m going on five hours of sleep and not even good sleep, you kept kicking me in the shins and kneeing me in the back.”

Clarke is about to respond – an annoyed quip about his morning breath- when her phone starts to ring again.

“Someone had better be dead,” Wick says to himself as Clarke springs from the bed to answer it, “someone had better be dead for her to call so many fucking times.”

“Hello?”

“Good Morning Clarke,” her mother says, “I was just – I’m ready to get breakfast whenever you’re ready.”

“Oh,” Clarke says- she wants to be angry but there’s something in her mother’s voice, “ are you alright?”

“Me?” Abby says , “of course, Well – I am little nervous actually. I couldn’t really sleep last night, I just keep thinking about everything that has to be done and-“

Clarke feels a rush of sympathy for her mother – it’s a rare feeling, she chalks it up to sleep deprivation. “Let me just get dressed – make myself presentable, I should be down in the lobby in twenty.”

Abby is quiet for a moment, then Clarke hears her practically smile into the phone. “Alright, great. I’ll head down and wait for you.”

When Clarke hangs up the phone and turns around, Wick has taken all of the pillows from her side of the bed and built a sort of fortress around himself.

“What time is dinner?” he asks.

“6:30.”

“I will be sleeping until 5:45.”

“I thought you and Bellamy were going fishing or some stupid manly thing like that.”

Wick laughs, “Yeah alright- I bet you my car Bellamy is at least twenty minutes late to dinner tonight. He’s not dragging himself out of bed until 6:20 at the earliest. I heard you sneak in last night – fucking four a.m.”

“Why don’t you stop complaining and go to sleep?” Clarke says patiently.

Wick shoots her a glare, and then a smile “Sure thing sweet pea.”

Once again- he’s out cold and snoring by the time she leaves the room.

Breakfast really isn’t all that bad. Clarke is incredibly hungry, the coffee helps. Her mother is sort of subdued – due to her own nervousness Clarke would assume. They talk a lot about the resort- she tells Clarke some stories from when she was a little girl and her parents would take her on beach vacations. Clarke asks her how she’s going to do her hair for the ceremony and ends up showing her a few youtube tutorials about pretty braided up-dos. Overall it’s the most successful interaction they’ve had since Clarke left for college almost nine years ago. It all ends the moment her mother mutters the word “tonight”

“After dinner,” Abby starts, “it was actually Marcus’s idea but I thought it might be fun.”

“What?” Clarke asks.

“Maybe we could do a sort of bachelorette party.” Abby says “Me and you, Raven and a few women from the hospital. I thought we could just go out and get a drink. Marcus has something planned too – something about a smokehouse.”

Clarke takes a deep breath – she has to say yes , even though she knows she and her mother and alcohol do not go well together. She has to say yes, because this will go so much smoother if things can stay civil between the two of them.So after breakfast, Abby goes off for an appointment at the spa- she invites Clarke but she’s able to come up with an excuse about checking her email and having lunch with Kyle. Abby smiles so bright when she says it Clarke has to resist the urge to roll her eyes. 

Knowing she can’t go back to her own room – because Wick would probably murder her – she goes and knocks on Bellamy and Raven’s door. Raven answers wearing gym clothes and a smirk – muttering something that sounds like “ I know what you did last night.” Clarke tells her about the bachelorette party – and Raven actually looks excited – having never been to one herself. They stand in the doorway and talk in hushed voices until Clarke tells her she’s far too exhausted to join her in the gym. Raven just smirks, steps to the side and holds the door open. Clarke ignores her friend’s laughter as it closes behind her.

Bellamy is out – sprawled across the mattress with his feet hanging off of the end. His shirt and dress pants lay crumpled on the floor – the sheets twisted around his waist. She should leave him alone – she should turn around and find something else to occupy herself with, but she watches his chest rise and fall and his hair looks so sleep rumpled and she’s weak – the hangover, the impending nuptials it’s all made her very very weak. So she slips off her shoes and her “breakfast with mom” cardigan, and crawls in next to him, there’s no way she can shimmy her way under the blankets- so she lays her hand across his heart and rests her head in the crook of his neck. Her eyes drift closed – she takes three or four breaths against his skin before she feels him move, his hand reaching over to rest on her hip – his face tipping upwards to check that it’s her. He squints at her through one eye- his hair literally sticking up on the back of his head. “What time is it?” he grumbles.

“’bout nine.” She says back.

“Where’s Reyes?”

“Gym?”

“Wick?”

“Sleeping.”

“Your Mom?”

“At the spa.”

He makes a noncommittal grunting noise, and she feels him turn his body, wrapping his arms around her back to pull her further on top of him.

She almost laughs, but when she lifts her head his lips are waiting for her. He’s never kissed her so slowly – they’ve done the lazy morning sex thing once or twice, but he’s still never quite this gentle. His lips are barely moving but he still presses her closer, sucking on her bottom lip when she tries to pull away to catch a breath. Something about his hands on her back- and the low groans in the back of his throat make her feel like she’s been homesick for weeks. It’s silly – but she doesn’t have time to give much thought to the feeling right now. Not when she feels so unbelievably calm.

“I missed you.” she says quietly. She adds a little laugh on the end – giving him the opportunity to make it into something suggestive if he wants to. All he does is smile an undeniably genuine half- asleep smile and brush the hem of her tank top further up her back.

“Not a good idea," she whispers against his lips.

He shakes his head, “Best idea I’ve ever had.”

She rolls off of him, resuming her previous position with her head resting safely on his chest. He sighs and searches for her hand- fiddling with her fingers while he finishes waking up. 

“I came to warn you.” she says.

He groans dramatically “Dear God, what now?”

“Kane is having some kind of bachelor’s party.” She says. “Sounds like it’s gonna be one of those cigars and brandy in the smoking room type shindigs.”

“Do I have to go?”

“I don’t want Wick to go alone, and anyway- I don’t know what else you’d do.”

“You?” it’s a cheap lazy joke and he laughs like he knows it. She really has missed him. 

“Hah, Hah.” She says with a roll of her eyes, “I’ll be at my mom’s bachelorette party.”

“Oh that’ll be fun,” he says “what are you guys doing, having tea? Playing bridge? Reading a Jane Austin novel?”

“She wants to go out to a bar.”

“Does she even drink?”

“I don’t know.”

“You should buy her something penis shaped,” he says, “women always wear penis shaped something or other to a bachelorette party.”

“That’s my mother Bellamy – don’t be disgusting.”

He laughs and pulls her back against him when she tries to pull away.

“She didn’t try to drag you to the spa with her?”

“Yeah, I lied. Said I had to lunch date with Wick.”

He rubs at her back, “You should have went with her- might have done you some good.”

“I’m fine.” She says.

“Yeah alright,” he says, “which is why you’re here bugging me.”

“I’m here- because Wick practically kicked me out of the room this morning. He says he couldn’t sleep because of me, accused me of kicking his shins in my sleep.”

He laughs “Yeah, no that’s true. You’re a big time kicker, that’s why I always end up pinning your ass.”

He spins himself around so quick he actually startles her when he looms over top of her- pining her legs with his own and sliding his arm under her head. 

“I know you want to go back to sleep.” She says.

He smirks “I do.”

“If I stay here you won’t sleep.”

“Well- I mean I will _eventually._ ”

She laughs and pushes him off of her, sitting up on the side of the bed and grabbing her cardigan. “You’re going to need your rest for all the kiss-assing you’ll have to do tonight.”

He groans. “Any chance they’ll be strippers at this bachelors party?” 

She turns around and shoots him a glare- although she’s not really sure why.

“I am going to go find something productive to do. When you finally do get up- take Wick somewhere and feed him. He thinks he’s going to be able to sleep until 6 but my mother expects us down there by 5 at the absolute latest.”

“Why don’t you wake him up and feed him? He’s your boyfriend.”

“Because somewhere deep down inside of him, he’s a little bit afraid of you.”

“Good, he should be.” Bellamy mumbles. Clarke pulls her shoes back on and gives him one last longing glance before heading for the door.

“Sweet dreams,” she mumbles. He probably says something vulgar but she’s out in the hallway before she can hear it. 

Those few hours- between leaving Bellamy’s room and tying Wick’s bow tie for the fifth time on the elevator down to the dining room – are the most peaceful Clarke will enjoy for quite some time.

She plays her maid of honor part like a pro – welcomes guests, helps everyone find their seat, she’s even made some preliminary plans for her mother’s bachelorette party (none of which include anything penis shaped.) The trouble is – Clarke starts drinking the moment she sets foot in the dining room. Wick brings her a shot to “calm her nerves, “ her mother hands her a glass of wine- which she gulps down in a totally classless and desperate way when no one is looking, Marcus is sweet enough to give her another. ( She also may or may not have taken a few swigs of a tiny bottle of vodka from the mini-bar while Wick was in the shower.) By the time Bellamy and Raven arrive, the pink must be showing in Clarke’s cheeks, because Bellamy pulls her close (under the guise of a one-armed hug) and tries to pry the glass from her fingers. “Take it easy.” He mumbles.

She jerks away from him and glares. “I’m good," she says.

Bellamy narrows his eyes and refuses to let go of the glass, “Don’t do this,” he says. “This isn’t the way to deal with it- it’ll only end badly and you know it.”

Clarke is thinking about tossing the wine in his face but luckily Raven – in true best friend fashion- has allowed herself to get pissed off on Clarke’s behalf. She pinches Bellamy on the shoulder and pulls his arm away from the wine glass. “Leave her alone," she hisses. “She doesn’t need you holding her hand.”

Clarke means to thank her, but she’s swept up into a conversation with her mother’s campaign manager- who casually asks whether her dress for the ceremony will be anymore “tasteful.”

It’s a shit night from that point on, and a lot of it is her fault. During the actual meal she focuses more on filling her wine glass than her stomach- a rookie mistake that she’ll hate herself for making later. She tries to keep herself distracted by talking to Raven about everything but what is going on around her, but she sees Bellamy watching her out of the corner of his eye – subtly putting rolls on her plate even when she stubbornly puts them back into the basket. Finally, Wick moves the nearest wine bottle out of her reach. He does it so casually that she’s pretty sure she’s the only one who notices. He tries to grab her hand and bring it to his lips – one of the cute little couple things they agreed wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Clarke forces herself to smile, rips her hand away, and heads to the bathroom.

When she returns, Abby and Kane have stood up to deliver a speech to their guests. Clarke listens from the bar. Marcus talks about meeting Abby, how they were there for each other after Jake died, how she’s supported his career and given him the opportunity to have a real family. He nods over to her during that last bit- and she just slaps on a fake smile and raises a glass.

And then Abby stands up- she tells everyone how great a man Marcus is, that he’s been her rock, that he’s helping her make all of her dreams come true. She says that she’d like to think of this as her “happy ending” and thanks everyone for coming to share it with her. 

She doesn’t mention Jake. Only mentions Clarke once, making a joke about her beautiful daughter helping her find a hairstyle for the big day. As far as anyone in the room knows, this is as in love as Abby Griffin has ever been – and it’s probably the vodka, and the wine, but her hands start to shake in anger. There have always been things about this that have been annoying and forced but now- now it just feels wrong, all of it feels wrong. 

She looks at her mother’s smiling face, her hand clasped with Kane’s- and thinks about her father’s grave, his room number at the hospital, the sound of the phone when it rang through their house that night. She turns to the bartender and orders a whiskey sour- she shouldn’t be mixing alcohol like this, but it’s an emergency. Right now she wants nothing more than to storm from this room and never come back. She has no idea how she’s going to play cheerful maid of honor all night, because she can’t shake the feeling that her mother doesn’t deserve this. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’s trying not to laugh at the way Wick looks with a cigar in his mouth. For some reason it reminds him of those creepy villains in the old cartoons who tied people to railroad tracks. He’s anything but a villain though, the image is pretty much ruined by the guys big goofy grin. Bellamy is impressed with him, he’s been handling all the questions about Clarke pretty well. Kane is giving him the third degree, but Wick hasn’t even flinched. It’s all fake, but there’s still a part of Bellamy that hates the fact that Dr. Wick is worthy of Clarke when he isn’t. 

“I wish they could work through their differences,” Kane is telling Wick, his usually composed voice faltering a bit as he takes another drink of his scotch, “Jake would have hated seeing them like this, always at each other’s throats. It’ll only get worse as the election gets closer.”

That’s a fucking understatement. 

Bellamy knows Wick has no idea what to say. Clarke’s like a goddamn mystery novel and he’s barely skimmed the first chapter. Luckily Kane is gazing into the amber liquid at the bottom of his glass. Wick raises his eyebrows at Bellamy, who tries to give the subtlest change the subject head nod he can manage. 

“Well,” Wick begins awkwardly “they’re going out together tonight so that’s probably a good start.”

Kane smiles at him “I hope so son, I hope so.”

They clink their glasses together, and Bellamy is trying really hard to ignore the fact that he’s feeling pretty damn bitter right now.

“So Blake,” Kane says through a puff of cigar smoke “I heard it was you that introduced Clarke to Dr. Wick.”

Bellamy’s hands clench around his glass. “Yeah. He moved into my building, told me he was considering taking a position at Clarke’s hospital so I thought…why not?”

“Good man.” Kane raises his glass towards him and smiles.

For one horrible moment Bellamy seriously considers just blurting out the truth, just to see that look fall from his boss’s face, thankfully his phone starts vibrating in his pocket. He sees the relieved look on Wick’s face as he pulls it out. It’s Raven.

“Hey,” he says, jumping to his feet and taking a few steps away from the crowd of men, “everything alright?”

“No!” Raven says….well yells. There’s loud music in the background and she sounds like she’s bordering on hysterics. “Something happened with Clarke and Abby….I don’t know the details but….”

“Raven slow down, is Clarke alright?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!”

“Well we’re at this stupid nightclub and I can’t fucking find her! She’s not answering her phone! I don’t know where she is or who she’s with.”

“You’re pretty sure she hasn’t left though?”

“Yeah, I mean I haven’t seen her leave.”

“Okay listen just get somewhere where you have a decent view of the exits alright? We’ll find her.”

“Bellamy. Hurry.”

“I know.”

When he turns around Wick and Kane had walked towards him, obviously having overheard. 

“Uh, Clarke and her mother had an argument. Raven is having a hard time tracking Clarke down.”

Kane sighs. “Clarke’s probably just had too much. If you can get her in bed and let her sleep it off I’m sure this can be fixed in the morning.”

Bellamy nods and turns to Wick “They’re at that nightclub on the south side of the resort, we’ll have to…”

“I’m sure Kyle can handle it Blake.” Kane says with a stern glance “You and I still need to have a talk about the Ark case…”

“But sir….”

“The less people that see Clarke in this state the better, believe me," he explains “I trust Kyle will let us know once he’s found her. Just do your best to keep her calm, like I said we’ll deal with it in the morning.”

Wick’s eyes are wide, but he nods his head anyway. Kane shakes his hand as he puts out his cigar “I appreciate the company Dr. Wick. Clarke is very lucky to have you.”

“Uh, yeah. The pleasure was all mine Mr. Kane.” Wick turns and holds his hand out for Bellamy to shake “I’ll uh…let you know as soon as everything gets settled.”

Bellamy grips his hand and nods. He’s sure Wick and Raven can handle Clarke, but he still feels like he should be the one going. Kane can’t know that of course.

“Your date, Raven,” Kane begins when Wick has disappeared and they’ve taken their seats again “she’s close friends with Clarke?”

“Yeah.” Bellamy says, his hand wrapped around his phone in his pocket “They shared an apartment when she was in medical school.”

“That’s how you met her?”

“She and Clarke used to come into the bar I was working at.”

“She seems bright.”

“She is.”

“I’m impressed with you Blake, seeing you here. You’ve always been a good attorney, but there’s a bigger part of the job that I was never sure you’d be able to grasp. There’s an image we have to present with the clientele we deal with. I’m sure you’ve noticed it by now.”

He’s surprised his fingers haven’t managed to crush his glass, “Yes, sir.”

“You have a lot of potential Bellamy.”

“Thank you sir.”

“Of course. Now, I know this is supposed to be a party but we didn’t get the chance to discuss the case files I left in your office yesterday….”

An hour has gone by without a phone call when Bellamy finally sneaks out of the cigar club and calls Raven, who is whisper-yelling into the phone. – “We found her- she’s at the bar, but she’s refuses to leave. I don’t know what to do here, she’s definitely not above making a scene.”

When he gets there Wick is out front smoking a cigarette- Bellamy thought he’d kicked the habit – he doesn't have time to ask.

Clarke is sitting on the last stool at the bar, her back is to Raven who is sitting next to her – the bartender is leaning on his arms- telling some story Clarke is pretending to be interested in, laughing obnoxiously and leaning closer and closer to him with every move. Bellamy is pretty fucking sure that she’s trying to flirt her way to a few free shots – judging by the way she wobbles on her stool, she’s succeeded so far. 

Bellamy puts a hand on Raven’s shoulder as he approaches. “Thank fuck.” She mumbles, slumping a little in obvious exhaustion.

The bartender makes eye contact with Bellamy over Clarke’s shoulder. He looks like he’s barely college age with a smug grin and a stupid haircut. Clarke was never into the boy band type – this poor kid doesn’t even realize he’s being taken for a ride.

“Clarke,” Bellamy says.

She swivels in her chair to face him, rolls her eyes, and turns back around. “Better make the next one a double," she mumbles.

“No, I think you’re done for the night,” Bellamy says sternly.

Clarke snorts and shakes her head, “Tell him Raven.”

“Tell him what?”

“Tell him he can’t tell me what to do.”

“Clarke- I think he’s right, I mean this night has been a disaster we should probably-“

“Davey do I look like a child to you?” she asks the bartender.

Davey looks her up and down and shakes his head. Bellamy is about two seconds away from breaking Raven’s beer bottle over the kid’s head.

Bellamy leans closer to Clarke, “Come talk to me,” he says. “I don’t know what happened, but I can tell it was bad. You can’t drink this away Princess.”

Her eyes narrow, “Bellamy, get the fuck out of my face.”

“Clarke-“

“Come talk to you where? Some dark corner where your colleaguers and bosses and people won’t see because no one can know about me or your life is over. I’m not interested Buddy, I’m set here…with beer…this glass…and Roger.”

“Dave.” The bartender reminds her.

“Davis – who will bring me home later right? See, I’m taken care of – you’re relieved of duty captain.”

She’s sluring – almost embarrassingly so. The bartender is grinning like it’s cute. Bellamy is fuming.

“I’m trying not to get pissed at you," Bellamy says lowly. “I’m trying to be understanding but you are acting like a fucking child right now.”

“I am not a –“

“Then stop throwing a fucking tantrum and let’s go.”

“You don’t even know," she shakes her head and he can see tears start to brim in her eyes. “You have no idea.”

“Then tell me.”

“No! Take your girlfriend and your idiot neighbor and leave me alone!” she pulls away when he tries to put a hand on her shoulder, her voice starts to sound broken “just leave me alone.”

“I’ll take care of her-“ the bartender starts to say, Raven lunges forward pointing a finger in his face. “Back off Teen Nick,” she says. 

Bellamy ignores him and takes another step closer to Clarke. “You may be willing to make a complete ass out of yourself, but I’m not going to let that happen. The Clarke I know would absolutely hate the way you’re acting. So you can get up and walk out of here like an adult or I will pick your ass up and walk you out kicking and screaming.”

She doesn’t even look at him, “Stop talking to me like I’m you’re fucking sister. I’m not going anywhere – I’m definitely not going back to that – WHOA, OW, STOP- PUT ME DOWN YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE.”

“Hey man-“ the bartender steps towards them, but Bellamy shoots him a horrifying glare. 

Bellamy has Clarke over his shoulder – she’s digging her nails into his back, kicking her legs. Raven grabs her purse and shoots one last dirty look over the bar before stepping in front of Bellamy and leading him through the crowd.

He puts her down outside, next to one of the big- brightly lit fountains where Wick was still smoking. She stumbles on her feet and pushes him away from her. When she gets her balance, she tries to smack him- Raven grabs her hand. “Clarke, stop.”

“Get off of me. I don’t need this okay, If needed it I’d ask.”

“You’re so drunk right now – you realize that right? You’ve had way too much.”

“I don’t care!” she’s yelling, her arms spread wide and tears running down her face. “I honestly don’t give a flying fuck. Call someone and arrest me.”

“Lower your voice.”

Bellamy warns.

“No.”

He steps in front of her – tilts her face so that she’s looking right in his eyes. “Tell me,” he says.

“Stop it.” She tries to pull away but he steps closer. 

“Tell me what happened, Clarke – talk to me.”

“I just want to leave okay, I want to go home.”

“Well go back to the room right now-“

“NO HOME – MY HOME, MY APARTMENT, WHERE I CAN GO BACK TO BEING ALONE!”

“Clarke, what is wrong with you? What the hell happened?”

She looks at him- her eyes are so red her, her breathing is ragged. “It’s her fault.”

He doesn’t understand at first- but Raven does, she tenses at Bellamy’s side and shakes her head, “Clarke don’t.”

Clarke shoots her a glare, “It fucking is and you know it, everyone knows it. No one wants to say it, but it is! It’s her fault! I’m not going to pretend that it isn’t anymore.”  
Slowly he starts to make sense of what she’s yelling – the rumors when Jake Griffin died, that Abby had been the one to send him out that night, some even went so far as to suggest that she arranged for that car to hit him. It was ridiculous- but he had seen the ghost of accusation sometimes in Clarke’s eyes, those few times when she and her mother had gotten into really horrible arguments. Clarke had been sent to therapy after her dad passed- but Bellamy had always suspected that she blamed her mom deep down.

“Fuck, Princess,” he says sadly, “no- don’t do this.”

“Stop telling me what to do- stop trying to stop me- you can’t…you don’t understand what it’s like living with her, knowing what I know!”

“Clarke, we’ve talked about this.” Raven says. “It was an accident, you’ve seen the police reports yourself.”

“SHE PULLED THE PLUG ON HIM!”

“He was dying Clarke.”

“SHE PULLED THE PLUG AND I WASN’T THERE. I WASN’T EVEN THERE!” She sits down on the side of fountain and starts to sob into her hands. “And now she- she’s in love again, she didn’t even mention his name in that speech- not once. It’s like he wasn’t even real and Marcus- Marcus was his friend. She- “

“Your Dad’s been gone for six years Clarke.”

“She wanted him gone," she says. “They were always arguing- he knew things about Jaha, about the campaign. He knew something she didn’t want him to know and then he died.”

“Your mother did not kill him.”

“Then why didn’t she let me say goodbye?”

None of them know what to say to that. Clarke wipes at her face and looks up with a laugh- “and she told me tonight- she told me that I was just like him, stubborn, refusing to compromise, refusing to see reason. The first time she’s mentioned him since she got engaged and she was insulting him.”

“Abby loved your Father Clarke,” Raven says, “You’re past this, this is the alcohol talking.”

“No it’s not-“ she says. “I think it all the time, every day, every time I see her.” She starts to cry again, “and no matter what anyone says to me, no matter what she does for me, I will always think it.”

Raven sits down next to her. Bellamy just stares, he’s watching emotions flash so quickly behind her eyes that it’s making him dizzy.

“And she tries, she tries so hard but it only makes it worse, because I know she’s trying to make up for something. She blames herself too, she’s marrying him to forget it but she can’t. We both can’t. It’s her fault- and it doesn’t matter if it actually isn’t because I will always, always, always think that it is. And I – I don’t want too but I- I just can’t – and she-“  
She’s hiccupping through sobs, choking over words like a small child coming down from a tantrum. Bellamy realizes that he’s seeing that one part of herself that she always keeps hidden- those horrible nagging thoughts that cloud her mind whenever she gets lost in thought- that vacant glare he’s never asked her about. This is it, this is the deepest, darkest part of her. He never expected to actually see it, but now that he has- he can’t believe the absolute ache in his own chest. He feels like he’s watching someone physically beat her- a mixture of frustration and devastation, only there’s no one for him to be angry at. He can’t hit someone back for hurting her because this is all going on in her own head. He can’t make this better, and goddamn that’s a hard thing for him to accept.

He gets to his knees in front of her, grabbing her hands in his. “Clarke, you need to sleep this off.”

“No,”

“It’ll feel better in the morning.”

“It won’t go away.”

“No, but you’ll be able to fight it off, tomorrow, when you’re you again.”

“I am me.”

“You’re very drunk Princess.”

“I know.”

“Let us take you back to the hotel okay? So you can sleep.”

“Bellamy I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

She reaches for him, and he lets her cry into his shirt for a minute or so, then he’s pulling her up – looking around at the open windows and balconies- he hates himself for what he’s about to do.

“Wick,” he says, hugging her while he still has her in his arms, “you want to carry her?”

Raven shoots him a subtle look -something like disappointment and pity. Wick just nods. He reaches out and Bellamy lifts Clarke into his arms. She’s just trying to hid her face now, he doubts she really cares who’s carrying her, but Bellamy does. 

“You know,” Raven says as she picks Clarke’s purse up from where she’d dropped it, “some things are more important that a job.”

Bellamy doesn’t glare. He doesn’t shake his head or argue or tell her to mind her fucking business. He looks down at his hands, “She’s drunk, she wont remember this in the morning.”

It’s not an excuse- it doesn’t even really matter whether she’ll remember – he will. Suddenly he feels a stinging sort of self loathing that he hasn’t felt in a while. 

Clarke starts to come back to herself as they make their way back to the room – probably means that her body is trying to force the alcohol from her system – when Bellamy points this out Wick speeds up. It’s a good thing he does because as soon as they reach her room and Wick sets her on her feet, Clarke dashes into the bathroom, Raven follows closely behind.

Bellamy and Wick both stare awkwardly at the floor – neither of them wants to start a conversation , but it would be nice to have something to drown out the sounds of retching.

“Hey look man, “Bellamy says, “I’m sorry about all this-“

Wick raises his hand and shakes his head, “Nothing to be sorry about. People have bad days- or I mean, I guess this is a bad weekend. I get it.”

And for about the millionth time Bellamy thanks God that Wick is so goddamn laid back. 

“I guess Raven should probably stay with her,” Wick says, “you’ve got two beds in your room right? If anyone asks we’ll just tell them she was drunk and- yelled at me or something, which isn’t exactly inaccurate.”

Bellamy doesn’t say anything, because he’s probably right. It’s probably what Clarke would want, but something about it just doesn’t sit well with him. Raven comes out of the bathroom just about the time they hear the water turn on in the shower. 

“She alright?” Bellamy asks.

Raven shrugs, “I don’t know. I think she’s embarrassed.”

For some reason they all feel kind of embarrassed. 

“We uh- we figured you could stay with her,” Wick says.

Raven opens her mouth – probably to agree with Wick for the first time in history – when Bellamy shakes his head and clears his throat.

“No,” he says, “no I think- maybe I should.”

Wick is raising his eyebrows at him, and Bellamy thinks this is what it would feel like if Clarke had older brothers. “Not for – that.” He says, “look I just- I can take it. If she’s angry or sad or embarrassed, whether she shuts down or lashes out- I can deal with it.” When they still don’t look convinced he takes off his jacket and throws it into the chair by the door, “you’re the new guy,” he points at Wick before turning to Raven, “and my relationship with her is much more expendable than yours- she’s got a mean streak when she’s drunk. You and I both know that.”

Raven and Wick share a look- almost amused.

“Okay,” Raven finally says. “If you’re willing then- okay. Let me just say goodbye.”

She cracks the bathroom door and slips inside.

Wick grabs his suitcase from where it sits in the closet, throwing a couple of garment bags over it. “Don’t worry about me Blake,” he says, “I won’t try any funny business with your date.”

Bellamy almost laughs, “Wick you wouldn’t be the one I'd worry about if you tried any funny business. Raven once punched John Murphy in the face so hard he had to get surgery. Watch yourself.”

His eyes widen, but it’s not just fear- Bellamy is pretty sure he sees a lot of admiration there. He hands Wick his key card- tells him he’ll just come get his stuff in the morning, by that time Raven is out of the bathroom.

“If she’s not out of there in the next ten minutes go and get her.” She says, “I trust you Blake, don’t make me regret that.”

“Never.”

When Wick leaves the room Raven hesitates at the door, smirking at him as he starts to remove his tie. 

“It’s easier in here isn’t it,” she says, glancing around the empty room “where no one can see?”

Bellamy looks away from her.

“She’s starting to think that you care more about her than your job.” She says, “please don’t let her if that’s not true.”

He starts to pull together an argument in his head – his lawyer instincts kicking in – but when he looks up she’s gone and he’s left with only the sound of Clarke’s shower.

When Clarke finally emerges from the bathroom, Bellamy is sitting on the bed playing with his phone- really he’s watching a timer he’d set the minute Raven walked out. With 3:34 left, she walks out in a robe- followed by a cloud of steam. Her hair is straggly, her face is red. She looks at him like he’s crazy before sitting down at the end of the bed with her back to him.

“What are you doing here?” she asks.

“Well,” he says, “Raven and Wick thought up some elaborate plan to steal my room- I’m pretty sure there’s something going on there.”

She turns and glares at him over her shoulder. “Don’t coddle me.”

“Why do you think I’m here Clarke?”

“Because I fucked up and Raven and Wick are afraid of me?”

“No,” he scoots closer to her, “because no offense but Raven is a million times scarier than you- drunk or not, and Wick-“

Clarke leans forward and buries her face in her hands. “Oh my God- I owe him the biggest apology.”

“He understands.”

“How? How could he possibly understand? I don’t even understand.”

He lets her sit in silence for a few minutes, before dramatically patting the spot next to him, “Come on, you need to sleep this off.”

“You’re really going to stay here?”

“Yeah.”

“But what if someone-“

“I don’t care.”

She gives him a tiny smile and scoots back towards the pillows. “I’m naked,” she says, “and my head hurts too much to find clothes.”

He sets his phone on the bedside table and starts to take off his dress pants, “Oh no,” he says, “however will I suffer through that?” He flips the light off and lays back. He can practically hear her thinking- her foot twitches back and forth a the foot of the bed.

“Come here Clarke,” he says, scooting towards her a bit.

“My hair is wet.”

“Okay,”

“And I’m – sobby and snotty and gross.”

He laughs and rolls all the way over, resting his head against her shoulder, his arm across her waist. She’s tense for a minute, but then she sinks down into him- turning so that he can wrap both his arms around her and she can fit her head under his chin. 

“How many people saw me?” she asks.

“Just us,” he says “and that dick bartender.”

“My mother doesn’t- she doesn’t know right? No one was around that could tell her what I said?”

“No.”

“I’m a horrible person.”

He grips her tighter. “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I accused my mother of murder.”

“Something terrible happened to you, you wanted someone to blame. I’m pretty sure that’s a normal response Clarke. Your Mom is moving on- that’s hard.”

“Right now I feel like I never want to leave this room.” She sounds like she’s starting to fall asleep- he’s not far behind.

“I’ll stay here with you.”

“Can’t- job- important people.”

“Fuck ‘em.”

She whispers some other stuff – he dips his head and kisses her instead of answering. It’s brief and he may have even missed her mouth a little, but he’s just so fucking ready for this night to be over that he does everything he can to soothe her to sleep.

When he wakes up in the morning- to the alarm he usually sets for work- she’s gone.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Clarke wakes up with a hangover.

That’s an understatement.

Her mouth is dry- painfully so. Her chest hurts from when she threw up the night before. Her hair is a knotty mess, all tangled up around Bellamy’s face. He’s just lying there – with half of her body weight covering him, breathing through her hair.

This can’t be what he had in mind when they started sleeping together, having to baby sit her while she gets drunk and has a break down at her mother’s wedding, especially when he seems to think that anyone finding out about them would result in him losing his job.

He stayed with her anyway. And that, that is what her mother has never understood- that is why she and Jake were fighting so much near the end, because there are things that matter more than your career- things like having a guy in your life that is willing to cuddle with you an hour after you’ve thrown up and had a psychotic break down. Bellamy Blake is a rarity. 

The alarm on her phone starts to go off quietly – _March of the Stormtrooper_ – alerting her that it’s time to get up and start getting dressed for the wedding (Wick had done that for her, thought it would be funny.) She sits up and waits for the room to stop spinning before leaning down to kiss Bellamy on the forehead and creeping from bed. She grabs her make up bag, her dress, and her shoes- and quietly walks from their room to Raven’s.

Bellamy deserves to sleep in after all of that. 

Raven is happy to see her, and waves off Clarke’s apologies before she even manages to stumble through them. She’s already got a curling iron plugged in- like she’d been waiting for her. Clarke thinks Wick’s alarm probably went off at the same time hers did. As she walks in the room she sees Wick lying face down across the bed- his limbs sprawled out in every direction- a gurgled sort of snore being smothered in the pillows. Clarke pulls out her phone, but Raven pushes her arm down, “Already on Instagram.” She says.

Raven and Clarke aren’t the most glamorous of women- so they rely a lot on Youtube tutorials for their hair and make- up. Wick doesn’t wake up through the whole thing, and Clarke is kind of thankful for it. Facing Raven wasn’t a big deal- they’ve seen each other at their worst before but Wick was the new guy.

Raven helps Clarke into her dress, throws some extra mascara and lipstick in a clutch, and lets Clarke lean on her shoulder as she straps into her shoes.

“Can you um- make sure that they’re up and dressed in time?” Clarke asks, “both of them?”

Raven nods and gives her a quick hug, “One more day and then it’s over.” She reminds her.

“I know.”

The truth is, facing Abby is probably going to be the hardest part for Clarke- there’s this nagging fear that she’d actually said something really terrible to her the night before without realizing it, or that somehow she’d heard all the things Clarke had yelled at the fountain, all those truly horrible things that have sort of blended together into one big blur. 

The door to her mother’s room is propped open- a woman from the hospital is sitting at the end of Abby’s bed, chatting cheerfully about something. When they see Clarke the woman jumps up- smiling and complimenting her, dismissing herself from the room because clearly “it’s time for the bride to get ready.”

Clarke sits across from her mother and bows her head- again, the apology is right on the tip of her tongue but Abby beats her to it.

“Clarke, I’m sorry.” She says. “I’ve been rushing through this and I didn’t even stop to think about- what it must be like for you.”

“Mom, this isn’t about me.” and as she says it she knows it’s true. “I shouldn’t have tried to make this about me, this is about you- and you’ve been through just as much as I have. I should be more understanding.”

Abby looks up at her with tears in her eyes- fiddling with a chain around her neck, “I just want you to know that- I do love Marcus , but I will always, always love your father.”

“Mom, I-“

“But I can’t let myself feel guilty about moving on Clarke. He wouldn’t want that.”

She’s right.

“I’m always going to have him with me,” she pulls the chain forward to show Clarke- Jake’s wedding band hanging there right next to hers. “he will always be a part of this family.”

And Abby is making her feel horrible, but Clarke is pretty sure that it’s not intentional, that this time it’s just her own genuine guilt.

“Let’s just-“ she wipes tears from her eyes, “let’s just get you dressed. We’re running a little late and it’s going to take me forever to get your hair right.”

It’s not a bad day- at least the parts Clarke expects to be bad aren’t bad. She and Abby actually have a few laughs while they get her ready.

They’re on time for the ceremony.

Clarke sees Wick, Raven, and Bellamy sitting in the crowd before the procession – only looking mildly bored.

Everything goes off without a hitch actually – which is probably an indicator that things are going to go horribly wrong when she least expects it……and they do.

Clarke avoids alcohol and the happy couple during the reception- just to be safe. She mainly hangs out with Wick- who is going to end up being an incredible friend. He doesn’t even mention the night before – all he really does is quote ridiculous movies, subtly hint about his interest in Raven, and drag her out to the dance floor every time she groans about how much she hates a song. They share a table with Raven and Bellamy and a couple of guys from his firm. She tries really hard not to make eyes at Bellamy- because he just cleans up ridiculously nice , but every once in a while she catches him looking at her- smiling so easily that it makes her blush.

Finally, after Wick has tried to teach her the chicken dance and the cha cha slide (neither of which he knew how to do correctly), a slow song comes on and half way through listening to Wick sing along in a horrible country accent, Bellamy taps him on his shoulder. Wick doesn’t even try to look disappointed, turning around to take Raven’s hand with a grin- it doesn’t look great for their little ruse, not that it matters much anymore.

“You look beautiful.” He says into her ear.

Clarke smirks, “You already told me.”

“I told you as a colleague,” he says, “the same way I told your mother and Mrs. Byrd. Now I’m telling you as me,” he pulls back and looks into her eyes “you looking fucking beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says, “for last night- for this whole weekend. I know you didn’t exactly sign up to be my savior but- I don’t know what I would have done without out you.”

“Well, you would have been stuck with that for starters.” They both look over and see Wick doing some kind of weird shoulder roll- Raven laughs at him, but not exactly in a mean way.

“You did it Princess,” he says pulling her close again, “you survived it.”

“And tomorrow we get to go home.”

“Yeah, don’t make plans for tomorrow night,” he says. “You and me have some….catching up to do.”

She feels so light in that moment – like she can’t even remember the embarrassment of last night, the guilt of that chain around her mother’s neck. Bellamy just makes everything better- always. She wants to kiss him so badly, it makes her want to cry. But of course she can’t, not when everyone believes that she’s seeing Dr. Wick- and God do they believe it. People have been complimenting them all night, inviting them to dinners, Kane is absolutely enamored with him- she can tell that kind of bothers Bellamy. 

Her mother asks for her help to change into a lighter dress- the binding on the wedding dress is starting to make her uncomfortable. So Clarke follows her into the bathroom and helps her undo the corset, at first they just laugh about the cake and the way Wick is dancing – and then Abby starts.

“Clarke he is so good for you.” she says. “He makes you happy, I can tell and that’s hard to find.”

Clarke makes a humming noise and pulls a little too hard on the strings.

“He must have been so great to have this weekend. Marcus absolutely loves him, and you know how Marcus is…”

Clarke stops and straightens out, “So just out of curiosity- what is it exactly that Marcus loves so much about him?”

Abby looks a little confused, “I think he just thinks that Kyle is good for you- you look happier when you’re with him. Kyle is the kind of guy you’ll be able to build a life with, you’ve always been like a daughter to him Clarke- he just wants you to have someone you can rely on.”

“Someone I can rely on?”

“Yeah- is there something wrong?”

It feels a lot like the way it did when she threw up the night before- it’s uncontrollable and terrifying but she can’t stop herself. She closes her eyes and steps in front of her mother- “I’m not dating Kyle Wick.” She says.

“What?”

“He’s just a friend- he agreed to be my boyfriend for the weekend.”

Abby’s eyes are wide- “Because you didn’t want to come alone?”

“No, because I didn’t want you and Marcus to know that I- I’m having a thing with Bellamy Blake.”

“A thing?” Abby repeats, “with _Bellamy Blake_?!”

“Why do you say it like that?”

“You’re sleeping with Bellamy Blake?!”

“I’m – it’s more than that.”

“Clarke, don’t be that woman, please don’t be that woman.”

“What woman?”

“That woman who moves mountains and sacrifices everything for a man like Bellamy Blake-“

“A man like Bellamy Blake- what is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what it means.”

“Mom, you don’t know him.”

“I know enough!”

“You know what Marcus has told you- and he’s just pissed because Bellamy doesn’t kiss his ass and pretend to be something he’s not.”

“Clarke, he is going to hurt you.”

Clarke’s eyes are wide- partially because she can’t believe that she allowed this argument to happen, but also because she can’t believe just how wrong her mother is about Bellamy. How is it possible that so many people can misunderstand him so badly?

“You know what,” she says, “I don’t want to fight with you. I’m sorry I lied, and I’m even more sorry that I had to feel like I had to lie. You enjoy the rest of your night, I’m going to get a drink.”

Her mother calls out to her as she storms away- but Clarke ignores her. She walks straight through the ball room- through the lobby- until she reaches the doors that lead to their outside dining area. It’s far too windy for anyone to be actually eating out there- so she knows she’ll have a few minutes to herself. She doesn’t though, not really because she no sooner hears the wind slam the door shut behind her and suddenly it’s opening again. Her hair blows in her face as she turns to stare at Bellamy Blake. His tie is loosened – there’s an easy grin on his face. She feels so relieved. 

“What are you doing out here?” he asks. 

She laughs- the heat in her cheeks fading away, “I was- just trying to avoid another fight with my mother.”

“Smart,” he says with a nod, “I thought everything was alright.”

“It was- I mean until-“ she laughs and takes a step towards him, “I told her the truth.”

His eyes narrow, “The truth?”

“She was just going on and on about Wick and I just- told her.”

“You told her Wick isn’t really your boyfriend?”

“Yeah.”

He takes a step towards her, “You told her about us?”

The wind starts to feel a little colder – or maybe its just the way he’s looking at her.

“I did,” she says hesitantly, “yeah.”

His eyes bug out, he looks around frantically like someone is going to jump up and yell _“Just kidding!”_ “Tell me you aren’t being serious right now!” Her mouth is open, her eyes following him as he starts to pace. “Tell me that you didn’t just risk my career – without even asking me first- just to get one up on your mother.”

“I didn’t- that wasn’t what I was trying to do.”

“Clarke do you have any idea-“ he’s panicking now, in a way she’s never seen him panic, “I’m going to lose my job, I’m going to lose everything. What the hell were you thinking?”

“I don’t-“

“You sure as hell weren’t thinking about me. I told you what would happen if Kane found out, I told you and that’s the whole fucking reason we came up with this ridiculous idea in the first place, and after everything- everything we’ve done to hide this- you just fucking tell her like it’s nothing!”

There’s a weight on her chest- made up of shock, and disappointment , and embarrassment. Her eyes gloss over, and it’s not that he’s yelling at her, he’s done that before- it’s that in this moment, not only does she feel like a total idiot who just ruined a man’s career for absolutely nothing , but she’s starting to think maybe Bellamy wasn’t as misunderstood as she thought he was.

“I um-“ he looks at her as she clears her throat, “I obviously – just really misinterpreted-“

He pulls out a chair and throws himself into it, covering his face with his hands, “God this was so stupid- this was such a mistake- I am so fucked.”

And she doesn’t really know if he’s saying that their plan was a mistake- or that their relationship was a mistake, it doesn’t really matter at this point – she just wants to run, to get as far away from him and this that she’s almost shaking.”

“I’m just going to- I’m going to go.” She starts to walk past him, his head shoots up.

“Clarke just give me a minute to think- I have to fix this.”

“I’ll tell her I lied.” She says, stupid, irrational tears starting to drip onto her lashes, “I’ll tell her I made it up, and no one has to know any differently. I was just- I thought she was wrong about you, I won’t make that mistake again.” She mumbles the last bit, but he still hears it over the wind because he jumps to his feet and glares at her.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing Bellamy. Obviously it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Don’t turn this around on me- we agreed to keep this between us and you-“

“I get it, I fucked up. Now just let me walk away, and you can figure out how to fix your life.”

He glares at her and then takes a step back, “Fine,” he says, “walk away.”

And she does.

Raven stays in her room that night. Clarke doesn’t really cry, she just sort of sits there in silence trying to decide whether she believes this is truly her fault or not. Raven clearly doesn’t , she makes that pretty obvious by saying a lot of truly horrible things about Bellamy, most of which she probably doesn’t even really believe. Clarke stays silent- only really speaking when her mother calls her to say goodnight. She doesn’t mention Bellamy, Clarke’s not really sure how she knows…..maybe it’s a mother thing.

When they lay side by side, staring at the black ceiling and Clarke is trying not to think about the way she’d woken up next to Bellamy that morning, Raven takes a deep breath.

“You know you love him right?”

Clarke rolls over to face the wall. 

“Yeah.”  
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He tries to convince Wick to leave that night, but Wick- working with Raven to move everyone’s stuff into the appropriate rooms without Clarke and Bellamy having to see each other- tells him he’s fucking crazy if he thinks he’s driving those dark ass roads this late at night with barely any sleep.

He seriously thinks about calling a cab- not that he could afford the fare. No one had said anything to him when he returned to the reception. Except Raven, who shook her head and called him a fucking moron. Kane obviously didn’t know, he clapped Bellamy on the shoulder and shook his hand like everything was fine. Either Abby hadn’t told him, or Clarke actually went through with that stupid plan to tell her mother it was a lie. Abby would never believe that- of course she probably didn’t really believe that her daughter would lower herself to sleep with someone like him in the first place.

“You want a drink or something?” Wick asks as Bellamy angrily packs his suitcase.

“Not a good idea for me to drink right now.” Bellamy seethes.

“Just so I understand,” Wick says, “who are you mad at right now? Clarke or yourself?”

Bellamy turns and glares at him, “Why the fuck would I be mad at myself?”

“Are you serious?”

“She told her mother about-“

“Yeah, yeah I know, after you asked her to be cool with watching you pretend you’re into another girl so you don’t have to lose your job- all the while still expecting her to have sex with you like nothing has changed.”

Bellamy tried so hard not to take his words to heart- to hold onto his anger.. “She agreed.”

“Which I still don’t understand.” Wick says, “and at the beginning I knew this would be a trainwreck – because you two are obviously in way deeper than you want to admit too- I figured it would go down like this, I just never actually thought you’d chose the fucking job over her.”

Bellamy stares at him in shock- “it’s not just a job, it’s my life, it’s my career, it’s everything I’ve worked for, it’s what’s paying on my student loans, on Octavia’s student loans, it’s everything-“

Wick nods and lays back in the bed like he’s lost interest in the conversation. “So Clarke really was just sex then?”

Bellamy opens his mouth a few times- but he can’t answer that. He can’t deal with that right now, he’s worrying about losing his livelihood he can’t really think about losing Clarke- or the fact that he’s lost her already. It’s her fault, this is her fault…..but the more he thinks it, the less he really believes it.

“I’m not going to go talk to her.” He says throwing his suitcase to the ground and laying back in his own bed.

“Good,” Wick says, “Reyes would break your fucking neck if you tried.”

“We’re out of here first thing in the morning right?” Bellamy asks as he punches his pillow into place.

“Fuck yes we are,” Wick says, “I’m ready to get as far away from this weekend as possible.”

Bellamy has the urge to apologize to him again, but that will throw off his anger and he needs to hold onto that, at least until he can fall asleep.

Waking up the next morning feels worse than waking up with a hangover. 

Wick isn’t joking about getting the fuck out of there as early as possible. It’s barely dawn when he shakes Bellamy awake, mumbling something that sounds like “Come on Prince Charming, lets hurry up and run away before the Princess wakes up.”

Bellamy tries to kick at him but misses. He avoids looking at himself in the mirror as he pulls on sweat clothes and brushes the bad taste out of his mouth. He breezes through the lobby as Wick checks out and doesn’t stop to take a deep breath until he’s seated in the passenger seat of Wick’s car. Her bright green car charger is sitting on top of the center console, there’s a bag of sourpatch kids and an empty bottle of green tea, and he swears to god somehow the air in that car fucking smells like her. 

Wick listens to the Beach Boy’s Greatest Hits on the way home. He doesn’t sing along, but it still gives Bellamy an unbelievable headache. 

They stop at a rest stop at about the half-way mark. Wick takes his sweet fucking time at the vending machines. Bellamy breaks down and calls his sister, because he knows he’s gonna have to talk to someone about it eventually- might as well get it over with. 

She answers on the third ring, her voice barely recognizable. He apologizes for waking her up, tells her he and Clarke are done, gives her a brief recap of the events that he thinks, really makes it sound like he’s blameless. Although judging by the way she snorts when he finishes , she doesn’t really seem to buy that.

“What do you want me to tell you Bellamy? Congratulations on keeping your job.”

He narrows his eyes at her tone. “You of all people know how hard I’ve worked-“

“Yeah but what about Clarke?”

“What about her?”

“You’re just okay with her walking out of your life?She’s gone, but that’s alright as long as you have your job- the one that you fucking hate and have been looking for an excuse to leave for years-“

“I don’t hate my job- I hate where I work-“

“So that’s all that matters then? That’s really all you’re upset about right now?”

“I don’t- I don’t know," he snaps. “I don’t know .”

“Great, well here let’s gauge how you really feel about it-“ she clears her throat dramatically like she’s about to read him his Miranda rights, “You're never going to sleep with her again.”

He squeezes his eyes shut.

“You’re never going to fall asleep next to her, you’re never going to get another one of those sketchy texts with all the winking emojis, you’re never going to have another drink with her, watch another movie, you’re going to have to stop buying Nutella.”

“Octavia-“

“Does your chest hurt? Something like what you think a heart attack would feel like- or maybe being frozen alive?”

He opens his eyes “Yes.”

“Well then you’re in love with her you goddamn idiot and your job isn’t all that important after all.”

He knows she’s right. She’s always fucking right and he is an idiot. “But – you’re loans and-“

“Don’t you dare put this on me. I mean my God Bellamy, you had Clarke Griffin. She went to bat for you and you just- “

“I don’t need a dramatic retelling of my fuck ups O.”

“Why else would you have called me? Did you think I was going to tell you you did the right thing?”

He doesn’t answer her- Wick beeps from the car.

“Are you going to fix it?” Octavia asks.

“I- I have to think some things through.”

She must pick up on his tone- that he’s not really being an idiot he’s just overwhelmed, so she sighs, “Call me if you need anything okay?”

He stares at his phone for a few seconds after she hangs up- and realizes that it’s sort of weird to not have a notification from Clarke.

He climbs in the car and buckles his seatbelt- Wick makes it back out onto the highway before he opens his mouth. “Octavia says I’m in love with her.”

“Makes sense,” Wick says from behind his sunglasses as he switches lanes, “considering you fucking are, and I’ve been telling you this from the beginning.”

That’s the extent of their conversation. Even as Bellamy thanks Wick for everything he’s done and promises to find a way to repay him, neither of them mentions Clarke.  
Wick is a pretty great friend- at least he knows that for sure now.

There’s a week where none of this gets solved. Bellamy sulks around work waiting to be fired and sulks around his apartment waiting to hear from Clarke.  
None of the higher-ups call him into their office. She never does.

So maybe he got what he wanted- his job is secure, but as every day passes he knows Clarke is getting further and further away from him. If he doesn’t say something now- pretty soon that’ll be it. He just can’t do it- he almost calls her so many times, even types out a text but he can’t do it. 

It was never supposed to be anything complicated. It was simple, easy, and fun, no one was gonna get hurt, if something went wrong he could just back out with clean hands and find someone else. He gives that a try one night- goes out with Miller to the bar around the corner. He gives two girls a fake number and he feels bad about it, and not because it was a dick move but because he’d been waiting for his phone to ring for so long that he knew he couldn’t stand it if it was just some girl from the bar- and if that’s not an indicator that he’s totally fucked he doesn’t know what is.

It’s been ten days- he still hasn’t said it out loud, not to himself, not to anyone. And then he sees Kane walk into the office, he’s grinning, tanned from his honeymoon. He walks right by Bellamy’s office with nothing more than a genuine smile and nod in his direction.

Somehow it’s that- _that_ – stupid nod from an obviously unknowing Marcus Kane that spurs him into action.

He doesn’t even really think – doesn’t plan out a speech in his head- he marches straight down the hallway and slips into his office before the man has even settled in.

“Something wrong Blake?”

“I uh- just needed to talk to you about something.”

Kane gestures for him to sit down and starts pulling out a file- probably for the ARK case because what else would they really have to talk about?

Bellamy sits and stares. Kane raises his eyebrows, “Did you need-“

“I’m in love with Clarke,” Bellamy blurts out.

Kane sits back in his chair- his eyes wide.

“We’ve been- she and I have been- “ _tread carefully_ “we’ve been seeing each other for a few months. I told her I wanted to keep it between us, because of – the conversation you and I had last year.”

Marcus nods like he remembers.

“But it’s not something that can be kept between the two of us, because I honestly, really love this woman and if that means that you’re not comfortable with me working here than… I’ll pack up my desk.”

Kane looks at him and then nods once, “So Kyle Wick-“

“Is my neighbor- and a much better actor than I gave him credit for.”

“Well,” Kane says, “I can’t honestly say that I’m surprised. I don’t think you’re as good of an actor as you gave yourself credit for Blake. Do you have any idea why I had that conversation with you last year?”

“Because I kissed her at the Christmas party.”

“Because you kissed her at the Christmas Party to which you brought a date- and almost immediately after you were dancing with a third girl-“

 

“Yeah, I get it.”  
“I told you to stay away from Clarke because I couldn’t imagine a day when you’d walk into this office and do what you just did. You’re ambitious Bellamy, and as far as I knew the only thing you were really interested in was furthering your career. Clarke has been through a lot, I didn’t want her to get hurt again, I take it by the desperation in your eyes and the constant phone calls Abby was making to Clarke all weekend that was not something I was able to prevent from happening.”

“I’m going to fix it.” Bellamy says. “Right now-“

“Well, hold on- we’ve got a meeting with ARK officials on Thursday, is your presentation ready?”

Bellamy gapes at him – “I uh- I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to continue with such a high profile- I honestly thought you were going to fire me.”

“Do you want me to fire you?”

“No sir.”

“Alright then.” Without another word he looks down at the files on his desk.

Obviously Bellamy has been dismissed – he rushes from Kane’s office in the most professional way possible.

He’s half tempted to call Clarke right there- but this feels like something he should really put some thought into. Doing a complete 180 from- _hey you ruined my life_ to, _I was wrong and I’m stupid in love with you_ isn’t something you say into a voicemail.

He buys Nutella on the way home.

He plans to go to her apartment, to just show up and tell her everything. He goes home to change first into something that makes him feel a little bit more like himself. His keys are in his hand, his fingers wrapped around the doorknob when his phone rings.

_Clarke Griffin Calling._

He nearly drops the keys in his rush to answer it. 

“Clarke-“

“Shut up.”

She sounds mad- like genuinely pissed off. 

“Why the hell did Marcus Kane just call my mother saying that you’re in love with me?”

He should have known better than to trust his secret with a goddamn old married couple.

“Let me-“

“I don’t want to hear it. After everything you said- all the guilt, everything I did to try to make sure Marcus didn’t find out because you made it perfectly clear that I had ruined your fucking life and you just walk into his office and tell him-“

“That I love you? Yeah, that’s what I did and I was just on my way to tell you, so if I could get a word in-“

“How can you be so fucking casual about this!” he hears a bang from out in his hallway and raises his eyebrows.

“Clarke, where are you?”

“Home.”

“Lie.”

She sighs, “I’m in the hallway.” 

He throws the door open and there she is- dressed in her scrubs from the hospital, hair a mess, eyes just glaring at him like she’s never seen anything so horrible as his face.  
He smiles at her- can’t even help it. 

“Did you want to come in?” he asks- as she eyes him with suspicion.

“No.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to tell you that I hate you.”

It’s the craziest thing because it definitely sounds more like an “I love you.”

“Go ahead.” He nods at her, crossing his arms in front of him and leaning against the door jam.

“You-“ she shuffles on her feet, “you were such an asshole last weekend, and not even the whole weekend – that’s the worst part, up until the reception you were- I thought that I-“

“Hated me?”

“No, not until- after.”

“So what were you thinking before?”

She looks at him, and her eyes settle into a determined glare. “You can’t just decide that you’re in love with someone. It’s a serious thing to say Bellamy.” She’s speaking to him like he’s a child.

“Yeah it is, which is why I’ve never said it to anyone.” His sister of course being the sole exception, but that goes without saying. 

“Except Marcus Kane.”

“Please come in.” he takes a step back and opens the door wider. 

“Why?”

“Because if this conversation goes in the direction I think it will- a closed door is ideal.”

She snorts, but takes a step inside anyway. “And how do you think this is going to go?”

He closes the door, backing her up against it but giving her more than enough room to push him away if she wants. 

“I think that we both fucked up and fell in love,” he says, “and I’m ready to admit it. Are you?”

She looks amazed that he actually said out loud- maybe he is a little bit too.“You owe me an apol-“

“I’m sorry.” He says, “I freaked out, but I just- I love you.”

She refuses to look in his eyes, her hands come up to his chest, pushing him away from her gently. “I know- I know that I-“ she stumbles over her words, but Bellamy is pretty sure he knows what she’s thinking.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he says, “if you’re not ready for that, I understand. I just wanted you to know.”

“I want to say it back.” She says, “I mean it’s- it’s pretty obvious to me that this is-“ she gestures nervously between them, “what it is now.”

“Which is?”

“A lot more than sex.”

He laughs. She still looks uncomfortable. “We can talk about something else, I can apologize to you for some other ridiculous things I did last weekend, or we can just- order some food and watch TV, I mean I know it’s anti-climactic but-“

“No.” Clarke says “No that’s perfect actually.”

He tries to smile reassuringly and give her some more space, but she wraps her hand around his wrist and pulls him to her, kissing him in a way that makes it pretty clear how she feels about him, even if she doesn’t want to actually say it yet. He can’t really resist- what was probably intended to be a quick kiss turns into something of an entirely different nature. In just a few breaths he’s lifted her and pressed her against the wall of his living room, her legs squeezing his waist. 

It always seems to escalate with them: a snide comment from behind the bar escalated into a full-fledged screaming match in the parking lot- and two years of tension, an awkward kiss under the mistletoe escalated into six months of sneaking around and pretending it was just for fun, and just for fun escalated into something more permanent.

So when they lay across his couch that night, Clarke scrolling through Netflix with her head resting against his chest- he’s not really all that bothered by the domesticity of it all


End file.
